Sunergos
by Melpomene melancholica
Summary: Synergy the whole is greater than its parts. Neji observes this phenomenon as the beginnings of a conspiracy, involving such people as the Hyuuga heiress and the Uchiha survivor, unfold in peacetime Konohagakure no Sato.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, etc. Borrowing for the purposes of entertainment, procrastination, and basically, escapism.

Warning: Possible spoilers.

**Sunergos**

**Prologue**

The Hokage's office was a well-lit room, illuminated by both the wide-spanning windows that welcomed crisp daylight and the unbelievable collection of knowledge crammed within the stacks of current reports and piles of aged scrolls, either resting on the sturdy desk or stowed in the surrounding shelves. All sorts of information graced this tiny space at any given time, from highly guarded whisperings in the high court of the distant Tarsier country to the idle gossips on the streets about the most recent—and most torrid yet—love affair of some minor princling with some buxom movie starlet. Its mundane appearance was highly misleading: if the daimyos of the five great shinobi countries had their magnificent halls, the absolute commander of one of the most powerful shinobi groups in the world had this cluttered room.

Through the ages, ninjas had hardened against the little love the rest of the world had for them. Feared and hated by many, their very nature defied the human capacity to trust. A simple person cannot claim to love those that lurked in the shadows, those that operated under the mask of darkness, those harbingers of death that followed convoluted principles and undisclosed ideologies...

Those that few understood. Those that had little desire to be understood.

It was said that the ninjas were willing to do the most disgusting, the most atrocious of deeds for the right price. It was said that they, having forgone all morals for the sake of society and fellow humans, were the most honorable and the most high in morals, for they could discern the best course between two rights or two wrongs, could make the most painful decisions, the most impossible sacrifices, the most hopeless gambles.

It was said that ninjas were living ironies, but Neji didn't care. Ninja was his way of life. It was his destiny.

He would, however, acknowledge that many people's imaginings would paint a dimly lit, cavernous throne-room for the leader of the Leaves. Perhaps, a man might say to a fellow drinker, the leader of these ninja creatures was a brooding behemoth spider in a dark hole on a mountainside or an underground metropolis, that the fair village of Konoha was just a complicated disguise for these barbarians. They wouldn't believe if they were told (which he certainly wouldn't do) that, just this morning, the Godaime Hokage scolded the servant who closed the shutters of the office at the appearance of a few morose-looking clouds in the sky.

But why should ninjas shun light? Without light, shadows cannot exist. There was darkness; there was light. Each was defined by the other. Neither can be explained in absolute terms. There was umbra and there was penumbra, but they cannot be graduated like distance or time. They were merely sensed and perceived by human faculties.

And the ninja played with these fallible human faculties. That was how Neji was there in the room, and at the same time, Neji was not there in that room.

As far as the rest of the world was concerned, he, as well as the other ANBU, didn't exist: the Hokage was alone in that office. Of course, that wasn't true. Simply put, there really was no such thing as darkness; there was simply the absence of light. Similarly, Neji really was in that room, but others were simply unable to sense him.

That was the power of the ninja.

Even so, walls were just walls. The ANBU had no eyes and no ears. They were naught. Naturally, they had no tongues either.

Even as he fulfilled his duty as the motionless sentinel, Hyuuga Neji kept this reminder pinned at the back wall of his skull: the pleasure of using ones tongue too loosely was never commensurate to the price eventually extracted later. Guard duties were tedious for many, despite the honor afforded by serving the Hokage so directly, but Neji cared little for the nature of his duties and always performed them impassively and impeccably. Of course, he had ears in reality, and ears in reality couldn't help but listen, whether they were attached on rookie genins or on high-profile assassins.

"You really want to do this?" the blond, seemingly ageless woman spoke in rich, low tones.

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

"There are others willing to take on this data-gathering mission, Kakashi."

"Let's just say, I'm more than willing to take on the job."

Hatake Kakashi, number one technician of Konohagakure no Sato, was being sent to a distant northeastern country to study their various cultures, and it was the most impressively unmitigated bullshit Neji had heard so far that day.

Pastoral pacifists were sent in missions like those, usually life-long genins who were excellent in data-gathering but poor in leadership and the martial arena. The Copy Ninja was not new to the petty accusations of insecure enemies, those that dismiss him for merely being a talent-less aper. To Neji, Hatake Kakashi was a genius worthy of his fame as a warrior-child and of the formidable reputation he later gained with the sharingan. The man defied fate and genetics, mastered advanced bloodline skills he was not born with—a feat some still called impossible. And here, the same man was spouting trash about the thrill of seeing new landscapes, meeting new food, and tasting new women. (That was probably the other way around, but Neji rarely misheard things.)

"Your students will see through your mask."

"Can't be helped." Kakashi sighed. "Puppies eventually have to be weaned."

The Godaime nodded. Neji saw that her eyes were slightly shut, just enough to soften the sharpness of her light eyes on her face, the fluffs of shadow falling on shiny surfaces; nostalgia was what he read on her. The slightly downward curve of her full lips meant regret.

"I didn't do such a bad job with those three, did I?" The question was rhetorical, Neji knew, knew that the unanswerable question was asked by all jounin-senseis. "I never wanted to give 'em the job of redeeming the three-nins, you and the others of the third generation, Hokage-sama..."

"But fate can really be a bitch when she wants to." The Hokage's ample breasts shifted as she shrugged.

"Yeah, the fourth generation died out. The fifth generation's just me and I'm not much."

"Let's not make them the new legend of the sansukumi, even in our minds; the name of the three-nins is cursed and I don't wish to pass it on to any of those children. Albeit... I do feel redeemed somewhat. They show much more promise and much more sense than we did their age."

"Their trials and tribulations came early, but they seem to be more or less intact at its wake. Of course, some wounds never heal..."

Tsunade suddenly waved him away. "Enough of this, Kakashi. I'm starting to feel positively geriatric."

"Well, they are getting older." He hefted his bag. "Someday, they'd be old enough to ask guidance from me again. I just want a bit more maturity for that."

But Neji's full attention was now on the doorway of the Hokage's office. There was going to be an interruption, not dangerous but not necessarily pleasant.

A respectful knock was heard.

"Come in," said Tsunade.

In entered three personages of considerable importance. However, Neji's half-attentiveness to their presence was borne merely by their potential bearing of ill will toward the Hokage. Naturally, he knew all their names, knew that a theoretical act of violence from even all three of the newcomers could be easily countered by Kakashi alone, and any chakra-based attack could be totally foreseen by his own Byakugan.

Of course, they weren't going to attack the Hokage. Utatane Koharu and Mitokado Homura were the elders, wise people who had given counsel to three Hokages now. They were already old when Neji was still a child, and he could remember seeing the pair beside the late Sandaime Hokage in important gatherings. The third person he was even more familiar with.

His name was Hyuuga Hanatarou, a distant member of the branch family, a cousin several times removed. He possessed a natural talent for politics and a honeyed tongue. Neji despised him.

"Hokage-sama," he spoke. His voice was deferential and apologetic, but haughtiness bubbled underneath that artificial obeisance. Neji saw it in the wide sweep of his ringed hands, the regal swish of his kimono, the tumbler-shaped cap that sat almost precariously on his head, the slightly obtuse angle of his neck and head that held his nose minutely higher than most people held theirs. "We are so sorry to interrupt, but we must stop this waste of resource."

"Oh?" Tsunade replied, equally formal. "Why's that?"

"We have great need of the Copy Ninja," spoke Mitokado Homura quietly.

"How may I be of service, your honors?" asked Kakashi respectfully.

"You have always had influence over Uchiha Sasuke. We need that now."

"Sasuke?" repeated Kakashi. "Are we talking about the same Sasuke, your honor? Lone survivor of that clan? Went missing-nin, became Orochimaru's toy?"

"You must intercede on our behalf," declared Utatane Koharu. "You must make him see things at the right light!"

"Utatane-sama, when did that boy ever listen to me?"

"He must now!"

"And there is the matter of the heir of the Hyuuga," added Hyuuga Hanatarou. "You have heard of the news from the Mist Country, have you not, Hokage-sama? She must be planted down as soon as possible! It's for her own protection."

"The Hyuuga clan had always been an important asset to the village. This is a pressing matter, Tsunade-hime."

Tsunade, fingers splayed on her temples, showed the beginnings of a tension headache on the vertical crease in the middle of her forehead.

"Let me get this straight..." she began.

Neji cocked his head in interest for the first time that day. Apparently, the world was losing its collective mind. Without meaning to, he stepped out from the shadows, and the others in the room had no choice but to acknowledge him.

January 10, 2005 (2:21am)

**07/07/2011 As advised. BEFORE GOING TO THE NEXT CHAPTER and slugging through this unwieldy thing, I bear !_WARNINGS!_:**

1. My ambition for this story was for it to have a bit of mystery, adventure, romance, and coming-of-age stuff. I most likely failed; from what I gather, people have found the romance aspect to be either too much to continue reading or not enough to sustain interest. So if there are particular pairings you ABSOLUTELY CAN'T STAND, you'll probably be better of not reading on.

2. If you stumbled into this story after reading my other Naruto fics, you might find this boring, but it'll probably have the 'SHIP outcomes you want.

3. I'm older, lazier, much, much harder to motivate. I don't know for certain how long I can keep trying. I love this baby because I've been working on it for so long. There's nothing more I'd want than to have it finished and put behind me, but I can't promise that anymore. Will this fic be finished? I don't know. I'll do my best, but don't bet on it.

4. If you got bored before I got to number 4, chances are, you'd have gotten bored (or will get bored) before any of the previous warnings matter. Thank you for reading, however far you have or will get. I wish you luck in finding what you want in the immensity of FFnet. XD I know I spent hours hunting fics here for any number of fandoms.

5. If you complain to me about wasting your time, I'd think it sad. (Don't worry. I already think it sadder that I'm even writing number 5, since this is the sort of note that would have pissed me off myself if I had encountered it. I'll surely regret writing it in a less hormonal state.) I mean, FFnet has always been a procrastination tool for me so... I'm doing my part, right? By wasting your time?

I think that's it. Again, truly, thanks for reading. (I feel like I'm writing my own obituary.) At some point, I will clean this fic a bit, too, remove typos and the long-winded author notes. (The next time I'm pissy about work, maybe I will.)


	2. Chapter 1: Fall Afternoon Discussions

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, etc. Borrowing for the purposes of entertainment, procrastination, and basically, escapism.

Warning: Possible spoilers.

**Chapter 1: Fall Afternoon Discussions**

The world was a mass of swirling colors...

Of verdant green.

Of serene blue.

Of earthy brown.

Of blinding white.

She disappeared into this world of shades and tints, coalesced with an existence that didn't need exactness, or greatness, or superiority. There, things weren't simply black or white—or magenta, or yellow, or cyan-the mixtures were free to just be, weren't judged by a lack of this pigment, that pigment... Because every color, regardless of shade, hue, tint was loved by at least someone.

Someones were pretty numerous in the real world. Not all of them may be living at the very moment, but they exist in past or in the future.

She existed, didn't she?

Of course, she did. Now, living... Living was quite another thing. A harder thing.

If she were a color, she started out as a very drab one. Nobody liked her, and she did her best to add intensity to her shade, a dash of cheerfulness, a streak of endurance, to change this. But see, it wasn't easy to change; she wasn't just made up of colors, after all.

Color was merely something one perceived, created by the absorption or reflection of light. And she... the beautiful, dangerous, superior she, was just a perception. She wasn't truth or lie absolutely, not either one or the other exclusively. Their image of her was simply incomplete.

No surprise. She had always lived in shades, as shades. That's why nobody knew who she was, just how she appeared... From this side, that side. Now at age twenty, then at age twelve. Mostly from a distance.

She herself always looked at Hyuuga Hinata with eyes shut; otherwise, she'd hate the color she'd see.

Hate was such a sad thing.

Right now, she couldn't quite see herself. She couldn't quite see past the turmoil of emotions. And the pain, the frustration... They were the worst.

Ah, no. They weren't.

Loneliness was.

But even loneliness did not make her happy about this new addition to her life. Technically, she wouldn't be alone anymore. For her own protection—and her clan's—she would be, starting from now, shadowed by her cousin, a lonely being himself.

Yes, as a matter of fact, she did notice that Hyuuga Neji was lonely, too, had noticed it years ago. The knowledge didn't really help her, because she knew he spent some portion of his time alone hating her.

Now, he'd have even more reason to hate her. He had just been saddled by a responsibility he didn't want in the first place, an outgrowth of the one he had always resented.

_For the sake of the main family_.

She could empathize with him. After all, her own life was for the main family—therefore for her village and country, too. She didn't like being the Hyuuga heir, hefting a responsibility too enormous for her slight frame, her slight character. They didn't like it either, but there wasn't much anybody can do to change the circumstances.

The only thing she could do was embrace her destiny. And seven years ago, when she received the mark of adulthood in her village, she decided to change herself—no, to transcend.

The first step to transcendence had always been acceptance of what was, what had to change, what could not be changed. She had accepted the unchangeable fact that she was indeed the Hyuuga heir and that certain things were expected from her ilk. She had changed over the years to fit the mold she needed to, but inside... Had she ever truly transcended her old self? Had she reached her goal? Truly?

Questions, questions. She couldn't answer them without sufficient data, and the collection and utilization of information was the way of the shinobi— its nature, its core. She had to wait and see. She had to wait for them to accept fact, too, wait for them to allow her the chance to test herself, see then and now objectively. To see if she was now worthy of the blinding white...

Sometimes, she wondered if the almost omniscient purity of the white of their eyes blinded them. Her. Because she couldn't see. She couldn't see anymore what she needed to change. She had changed, but she couldn't see where, how, how much exactly. She so wanted to see if she had gained something. Or lost..

No matter. Patience was a virtue. It was one of hers.

With a profound sigh, she let go of the anger—why yes, she was feeling angry, and she barely noticed it—she unfisted her hands and opened her eyes.

And stifled a scream.

_Of serene blue..._

"Hinata-chan! Good afternoon!"

"Na-naruto-kun!" she gasped, managing to breathe through the tight bunch of muscles that lodged itself in her throat. Shaking her head, she swallowed her heart back in place. "You startled me."

Him. Her friendship with him. That one was surely a gain.

"How are you this afternoon?" Overflowing with boyish charm, he grinned at her impishly, his sky-blue eyes twinkling. Ah, many of the village girls had fallen prey to that sweet, mischievous smile—much to the chagrin of their elders. And her... Well, she cherished the fact that she noticed it first. Not that the fact made her less vulnerable whenever he unleashed its full power.

"Y-you-" She faltered under that unfazed guilelessness. "You really did."

"I did, huh?"

His expression became thoughtful, and he squinted at her, absently scratching at the fine down on his cheeks. The sensation it gave her wasn't exactly discomfort, but akin to it... Intimidation? He did tower over her now-two years ago, he literally spurted an additional foot—but it wasn't that. Embarrassment, then? Because of this closeness? Because despite their height difference his nose was only a hand's width from hers?

"Ne, Hinata-chan," he suddenly spoke, still bent over her, arms akimbo. "How old are you?"

The question caught her off-guard. "Twenty." She blinked, then added, "Why do you ask?"

Silently, he brought up a hand and pointed up. She followed with her gaze, saw none above but the bright burst of colors of the dying leaves overhead, the mid-afternoon sun from beyond adding to their glow. Ostentatiously, he placed that finger on her forehead. Reflexively, she looked at his hand, looked at the red of his lifeblood through parts of his skin rendered translucent by sunlight.

"That," he said simply.

After a stymied moment, she deigned to speak up. "I don't understand, Naruto-kun."

Unexpectedly, he lightly pinched her bunched-up eyebrows. "Wrinkles, Hinata-chan," he explained seriously. "If you frown too much, you'd wrinkle like Tsunade-obaachan by the time you're twenty-two."

She blinked at him again, as he stood there nodding sagely, still wearing his signature thinking expression. Then, because she couldn't really help it, she blushed crimson and burst out laughing. She covered her mouth after the initial peal of laughter, but she had to clutch at her stomach because that didn't quite stop it.

"It's true," he said, pouting at her in mock hurt. "It must be true, after all those hours Sakura-chan spent ranting about the ones she's getting from scowling over notes."

Hinata was still laughing.

"Ne, Hinata-chan," he said when she started panting for breath. "You all right?"

"Y-yes," she answered with much effort. "Yes, I'm fine."

"No." He was serious again. Very. "I mean, are you all right?"

She stopped and looked at him half-surprised. Then she nodded firmly. "Yes," she repeated. "I'm fine."

"That's good." He grinned at her again.

With cheeks slightly red, she smiled back at him.

Naruto folded his arms over his head and turned away, slightly embarrassed. "That's... nice," he said, then rushed on. "Hey, let's sit somewhere, 'kay? I'm beat."

They called themselves the G9, team 7, 8, and 10 all together. It was a collective name that stemmed from when they were twelve-year-olds. Everybody was shocked when the senseis nominated all the fresh graduates for the chuunin qualification exams that year. Only one of them, Nara Shikamaru, actually became chuunin that first time, but all of them reached the final stages—something many people didn't expect.

The G9 had a special place in that particular area of the forest in Konahagakure where they go, singly or in groups, to train or simply to think. That day, Hinata didn't go there to train. Naruto must have noticed that outright. After all, she was just standing there in the middle of the forest, motionless, eyes shut. She wasn't even wearing her usual jounin attire, a getup that reminded one of Kurenai's, the woman whom Hinata admitted to idolizing several times. The plain white kimono she was wearing made her look like a wood sprite, he would say in his guileless way; she knew she looked more like a chilling apparition.

Anyway, that particular area in the forest, had a particular place where the gnarled roots of the trees made it just right to sit in. There was even one gentle old giant in whose woody flesh time had carved a snug seat that could easily squeeze two. Hinata herself, however, was actually more partial to sitting on the swing hanging from one of that tree's branches. It was Naruto who devised that five years ago. It was slightly lopsided, one of the ropes tied to the old rubber wheel a bit shorter than the other two.

But then, Naruto suddenly stopped.

"Ahahaha..." he said, scratching his head, as he turned to Hinata sheepishly. "I forgot about that."

"Forgot about what, Naruto-kun?"

Naruto made as if looking around for people who might hear him. "Ah, today is Sasuke's scheduled therapy session," he whispered to her.

"Therapy session?" repeated Hinata also whispering. "Sasuke-san? I'm sorry to hear that. I didn't realize all that happened was still plaguing him until now."

"Nah, don't worry about him. Sasuke's pretty all right now—well, as all right as Sasuke could be, you know? It's sort of like a maintenance thing. I think." Naruto was still whispering. "Anyhow, let's get out of here. You hungry?"

"Hmmm..." Hinata thought for a moment and realized her stomach had been grumbling for hours; she didn't eat lunch that day. "Yup. Ichiraku ramen?"

"I was hoping you'd say that."

They detoured and walked in companionable silence.

"Hinata-chan, I heard about what happened from Kiba," Naruto suddenly spoke.

She froze for a split second. There it was. She knew the topic was going to crop up sooner or later.

"But I didn't really get the details 'coz he was really evasive," he continued. "Soo..."

"Aa," she said finally, nodding. It was Naruto who was asking; that's okay. It wasn't just some curious person on the street, looking around for the newest scoop about another assassination attempt on the Hyuuga heir.

Then again, the clan had means of keeping their affairs their own. Maybe the general populace had no idea at all about what happened.

"We had an escort mission, last Tuesday," Hinata began. "We were to bring an escaped political prisoner to the Mist Country where she had pleaded asylum. We were attacked by the people the young woman was supposed to meet. Apparently, they were Mist nins. I saw them a long way off, but we had no choice but to meet their attack headlong. The plan was to proceed warily, to show them that we were aware of their presence, and to feign fear. We sprung their traps, and as planned, made a slashing attack meant to disable their ranks swiftly. Our original plan was to make a swift get away, us being disadvantaged in foreign territory with limited manpower and information. We weren't sure if we should pull out for fear of treachery or proceed to the capital city.

"Kazuma Ada, Yuu Shinosuke, Naga Yuuhi, Yukimura Blood-shanks: four A-class missing-nins. We decided to push through with the mission and made a run for the city. The team split up into two, one with the real young lady, the other with me using the henge no jutsu. Two came after us.

"Kiba-kun was using henge no jutsu to pose as me, Akamaru as him. I was using the Gentle-fist to beat of my attackers, though they concentrated first on Kiba-kun and Akamaru. Their chakra use became severely limited and they withdrew. The other two, I found with the Byakkugan, dead apparently by the hands of my teammates."

"Genjutsu?" asked Naruto. "You would have seen that."

"You're right. It wasn't genjutsu. They were able to induce a death-like state by consciously slowing their heart rates... and my eyes aren't the sharpest in the clan after all. Anyway, the four regrouped and went after me who was still in the client's form. Kiba-kun and Akamaru fought well. We could have escaped sooner, but..."

"Your chakra failed."

"Yes." Hinata turned to him with a slightly disturbed look. "It was cold and we were in high altitude. And I couldn't breathe well...and..."

"And Neji's damage on your body from that time."

"Y-yes. My heart wasn't strong enough. Kiba-kun's been blaming himself because I used my chakra to take out three with one attack—and maintaining henge through out. The fourth got mortally injured and then killed himself. Anyway, I think my heart stopped for a while and poor Kiba-kun and Akamaru were so worried... Maya, one of our other teammates, was a medic, though. She came back after the client was delivered to Mist soldiers."

"So those missing nins' target was you. They would have known you were shinobi during the first time they fought you, and not the client. But how were they able to recover from the Gentle fist attacks to regroup and attack again?"

"They had a medic with them who knew how to repair the damage—unfortunately, he was the one who killed himself and his body had been taken care of by the Mist Hunter nins."

"Hold on," he interrupted again. "That's not right. They call you the Touchless One for a reason. Your attacks don't bruise, so it's hard for the enemy to know or see where they've been hit."

"We think he just repaired the chakra points in vital areas, so the enemy could still fight albeit limitedly. The elders of the our clan believe that it was a politically motivated assassination. Somebody wanted to destabilize the relationship between The Land of Tree and Leaf and The Land of Mist. And somebody wanted the secrets of the Hyuuga..."

"And they think the whole thing about the client and the asylum thinggy were all set up to lure you into enemy territory?"

"My father does. They've decided I needed to be guarded. Neji-niisan would be my protector."

"Neji? He's ANBU, right?"

"Yes. The Hokage is allowing it. My death, or even injury, would affect the security of our village."

"That sucks huh? Being followed around all day. He hasn't started his new job yet?" Naruto glanced up the thinning trees briefly.

"Tomorrow."

"Weird. Ninja needing another ninja for protection. You're sort of a jounin yourself you know. I don't think you need a bodyguard."

"Thank you, Naruto-kun."

"Ne, Hinata-chan. I'm glad you're safe though. So maybe you can bear with Neji watching you all the time for a while, huh? Just to make sure?"

"If it'll make you worry less, Naruto-kun. Neji-niisan won't bother me."

"I'm not worried _worried_, you know? You can take care of yourself." He seemed almost shy when he said this and he rushed on again. "Oh yeah. Did they even ask Neji if he wanted to do this?"

Hinata smiled at him sadly. "They are not required to ask us."

Naruto looked as if he were about to apologize.

"Don't worry about it. I'm used to it. He is too."

"Yeah... but you don't have to like it, you know."

"I know." Hinata suddenly smiled. "Enough about that. I have a question, Naruto-kun."

"Question? Sure. Fire ahead."

"You said Sasuke-san had therapy? I just saw him sitting up a tree branch. Sakura-san was studying under it."

"Ahahaha!" Naruto scratched his head sheepishly. "That's the therapy part." He lowered his tone conspiratorially. "Sasuke's a pretty sick bastard, you know. He he he... He likes watching."

Hinata coughed delicately. "Um..."

"Yeah, I'm kidding, I'm kidding! But you know, Sakura-chan _is_ studying to become a doctor. Maybe she'd cure Sasuke or something. But enough about that bastard! Let me tell you about the mission I just came from. And did I mention it's my first mission as jounin?"

Happily, Hinata listened to her friend's outrageous stories as they eventually reached the Ichiraku ramen stall. What Naruto-kun said about Sakura and Sasuke stuck in her mind though, even as her companion described the polka-dots on the daimyo's underwear in between mouthfuls of noodles.. Sakura didn't really need to become a doctor if only to be therapeutic, Hinata thought. See, Naruto wasn't one, and yet he was therapeutic for her, wasn't he?

Yes. Hyuuga Hinata was happy that cold autumn afternoon. That day, colors were just colors. Serene blue was just serene blue. She was just herself, and it was perfect that way.

* * *

In the first days of October, the reality of autumn hadn't quite made its mark, and the trees still stood with their colorful adornments. Particularly in Konohagakure no Sato, fall crept across Fire country like the lazy glow of reviving embers. Colors would blaze one at a time as in a stately parade, till eventually, the trees would stand in their glorious nakedness, ever dignified. 

The starkness and glibness of winter was a far thing still. One could almost think of the recent days as those of the mild summer. The waning days still baked sweat from men, and many children, who spent blissful days of play and leisure, had skins like freshly-baked bread that reminded one of the sun's lordliness during the past season. But every now and then, nature reasserted herself. The wind blew, occasionally bearing hints of the cooler "ber" breaths. The animals were busy in their preparations. The ninja academy was open once again.

The tree of Team Gai was as healthy as ever, with its crown and limbs yellow under the retiring sun. Gold fluttered down like miraculous snow from the violently trembling tree. Underneath, leaning against the freckled slender trunk, sitting on the roots was the culprit, the goddess of the wood and hunt.

But then, then stray clouds came and blotted out the afternoon skies, and it was just a young woman sitting there, shaking so hard that the weapons hidden about her person jingled together like coins.

When she laughed, the whole of her laughed. Her eyes crinkled the way the wood of the practice dummy did when the shuriken's arm cleaved its surface, the chestnut of her eyes elusive under those lids, those lashes. From her stomach and concentric outwards—her chest, her head, her limbs—she undulated like a contained natural disaster. The pale rays of the shuttered sun danced on her, its dainty fingers momentarily transforming the dark brown of the braids coiled around her head into the rich tones of aged red wine.

The sound of her laughter reverberated in that little clearing in the western woods of Konohagakure no Sato. Such was her self possession—she could laugh without inhibition, could cry without shame. She was honest to herself, always, whether regarding her strengths or her weaknesses.

But really... Her disproportionate titillation was starting to annoy him.

"Let me get this straight," she finally said, panting from both laughter and the very effort she exerted to suppress her renegade giggles. "The elders are planning to set up a new sideline business, right? And their first victims are your cousin and that boy Uchiha? And the Copy Ninja Kakashi is their chief matchmaker?" Hapless, she dissolved into chuckles, pressing a knuckle against her closed lips to muffle out the sound.

"Aren't we here to train?" he asked blandly.

"No," clarified Tenten. "You are here to train. I'm here to find out about what made Gai-sensei so upset. And you told me Kakashi-sensei is leaving. And that..." She gasped in a colossal effort to control herself. "And that the elders are plotting to marry Hinata and Sasuke."

"Have you been watching those slapstick shows with Lee again? I sense a dramatic deterioration in your sense of your humor."

"It's just... so weird. Hinata and Sasuke. I mean, the next few generations of Hyuuga and Uchiha would have to be... mute." She snickered. "Seriously, though. That's hardly fair."

He snorted. "You finally noticed."

Tenten hugged her knees to her self and looked up at him seriously. "I didn't believe it at first, that they can decide that much about your lives. I can just imagine you getting paired with... with...somebody!" She giggled, then sighed. "I've been mean today. I couldn't stop laughing at Gai-sensei either. I saw him running top speed to the eastern gates. 'How dare you try to elude me you coward! Our manly contest has yet to be decided,' he was hollering. You know how sensei is."

"I told you the elders stopped him."

"But he already left. Gai-sensei dragged me with him to the gates and to the harbor. Kakashi was gone."

Neji considered this. "Maybe they've stopped with their ridiculous plan."

"You mean, the marriage thing? I heard about what happened to Hinata, by the way. How is she?"

"Well enough. I'll be guarding her from now on."

"You?" Tenten sounded half-surprised. But probably, she wasn't surprised at all, thought Neji. Sometimes, the woman had a little too much insight on him for comfort.

"For a while. When they marry her off, the duty would fall to her consort."

"Why Sasuke, anyway? After what happened five years ago..."

"Because he is Uchiha," Neji replied simply; his heart was not totally devoid of bitterness, even if his tone was. "He is a gifted shinobi by his own right. His fame is widespread and terrible. As if the Hyuuga cannot protect its own."

"I thought you resented this." She learned him without visibly studying. She absorbed too much of him, it irritated him sometimes, but he was not surprised.

"It can't be helped," he answered shortly. "A blind man defies Fate's handicap with his hearing and touch and smell, but he is never foolish enough to abandon his cane while braving the world."

Tenten leaned back and gazed at the golden afternoon skies through the gaps between the twining tree boughs. He couldn't tell what she was thinking when she thought that deeply, so he merely waited in silence.

Finally, she stood up. "I'm ready to throw stuff at you like old times," she informed him pertly.

Neji approving smirk was brief. And the fiery duel ensued, even as the golden leaves of Team Gai's tree continued to fall, oblivious.

4:39, 011005

* * *

O-o I posted it. Tomorrow morning, I'm sure I'll wake up and ask myselfwhether or notI've lost my mind. 

Thanks to Seiyo and Midnightcrow for betareading. And the teaser of this fic is courtesy of Midnightcrow, too, the person who waited a year for this. (Here we go, alphareader. Sorry, I didn't wait till Yachiru's birthday. I might have lost my nerve by then.)

Oh yeah, my apologies to Tenten and Neji. -.-;; I cannot, try to remember as I might (and Google as I might), find the number of their team. I used the what I usually encounter in fanfics: "Team Gai."

Comments, complaints, etc. very welcome.


	3. Chapter 2: Uzumaki Naruto

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, etc. Borrowing for the purposes of entertainment, procrastination, and basically, escapism.

Warning: Possible spoilers. This chapter as written before manga chapter 244 was released, and everything before is fair game.

**Chapter 2: Uzumaki Naruto**

Uzumaki Naruto was his name, twenty years old. He had no impressive lineage to boast of, but he was an elite ninja of Konohagokure no Sato. He was neither genius nor adonis, but he was happy that afternoon, for he had friends, mentors, and, of course, ramen in abundance.

One of the said friends was Hinata, who seemed so profoundly sad when he found her in the trail to the western training fields, the one nearest the sprawling Hyuuga property. He knew she wasn't off to train, for her clothes were too delicate for that. In fact, he rarely saw her out of uniform. He wondered why he never remarked on the change the whole time they were together at Ichiraku's.

But of course. He had been the one who talked mostly, and mostly, he talked about himself.

Iruka-sensei once said that having a conversation with Naruto required a skill for hollering. All his friends knew talking with him meant boisterous exchanges and wild antics, which was probably why he was invited to virtually every party and rarely to solemn gatherings.

Hinata was different. She listened to him as if she was interested in, not only what was coming out of his mouth, but in what he was _saying_. That was not saying that everybody else took him for granted. Hinata simply listened to everyone. She understood well what simple acknowledgment meant to ones soul. Now, that was what many people took for granted.

Naruto had walked her home afterwards. As always, the gates of Hyuuga eventually blocked their path, colossal and forbidding jaws of death that used to intimidate him as a child. Since the Hyuuga estate was a bit more to the northwest of the village, most of the trees surrounding it were evergreens. They towered, too, like mute guards, as if ready to pummel impudent intruders to bits.

Neji had been watching them as they approached. Of course, he knew Neji was watching—he could sense the genius's presence well as they had been comrades for years. For some reason, Naruto had been placated by that; it seemed Neji took his job seriously. Then again, Neji always took his job seriously.

Hinata had started to invite him in, but then had stopped and apologized. Her father would have been displeased if she had visitors at that hour. Furthermore, they were going to dine formally tonight, for they had visitors, nobles from a neighboring fiefdom.

Instantly, Hinata had been engulfed by that inexplicable sadness. Her white eyes became almost... murky. Naruto had bopped her on the elaborate plaiting of her long black hair to snap her out of it, chiding her and telling her not to sweat it since he had other obligations that night, anyway. She had giggled then, but in retrospect, he should have talked to her seriously instead of acting goofy. Tsunade-obaachan would probably smack him for such an insensitive deed.

But Naruto knew that, sometimes, one had to be left alone with ones sadness. One had to experience sorrow in all its entirety, before one can emerge out of its noxious cloud. That's why, instead of vituperating Hinata, he coaxed smiles out of her. Even if her smiles were tainted with sadness, they were still seeds for later happiness.

Satisfied, he was now heading for another estate, one that was located across town. He had been surprised find a note pinned on his apartment door when he got home. It was from Sakura, telling him to go to Sasuke's house that evening. Sasuke never invited people over. The few times Naruto hanged out there were the results of forced entries and fellow drunks in a boys' night out. Team 7 usually gathered at Sakura's house to catch up on each others' lives, where her mother graciously prepared mouth-watering snacks. Of course, a considerable percentage of their missions were accomplished together, anyway. Old genin teams were often put together so as to not waste the team work and dynamics that had years in the making.

Naruto's mission that day, however, the one he grandly and explosively retold to Hinata, was spent with Shino, Lee, and another older chuunin. It was the first mission Naruto lead as a jounin, and all in all, he was fairly satisfied with his performance.

Now that he was jounin, Naruto idly wondered what he'd do next. It's too bad Kakashi-sensei wasn't around to bug anymore. Naruto suspected the gray-haired masked pervert actually took that long mission to escape his daily visits for career counseling (obligatorily free of charge, of course).

As the afternoon dwindled to twilight, Naruto found the people in the streets become progressively thinner. A few blocks later, he was alone. That was how he knew he was nearing Sasuke's house.

Sasuke.

Nowadays, the brooding boy's solitary ways weren't merely self-imposed. People went out of his way reflexively. The fear and suspicion weren't even conscious for most of them, Naruto thought. It was their inner gut feeling that told them to stay clear of Uchiha Sasuke-the same way they stayed clear of Uzumaki Naruto. Of course, with Sasuke they still remembered what happened years ago, how he became missing nin, how he became a minion of Orochimaru, how he almost became Orochimaru. With Naruto, the younger generations did not know about the Kyuubi he carried in his navel, but they inherited the hate they grew up with. Naruto knew it lurked in people's hearts, even as they acknowledge him a hero for playing a major role in the defeat of both Orochimaru and the Akatsuki. But those were just stories for the ordinary people: the Kyuubi, the Uchiha avenger... Truth mixed potently with half-truths and borne monsters that lurked just there under the surface of people's consciousness...brooded there with their secret fears and nightmares.

The aftermath of the Sand's attack from eight years ago had the village reeling. For a while, there weren't even any chuunin or jounin qualification exams held. Naruto himself trained with the sennin of the legendary three, Jiraiya, for three years, simply trying to get stronger and better for Sasuke's second rescue and for his own protection against the S-class missing-nins that plotted to get him and the demon he held prisoner. The others did the same, preparing for the eventuality of Orochimaru's and the Akatsuki's mobilization.

But that was over now, had been for almost five years now. Naruto and Sasuke became jounin the same day, but Sasuke almost didn't make the cut. Understandably, there were still some who didn't trust him.

Naruto shook his head as his blue eyes trained on the lilac skies. The important thing was that they were jounins now. Who cared what people thought? Of course, there was the question that still boggled him: what was he going to do next? He didn't have any ideas. The next step was obviously ANBU, but... he wasn't sure he wanted to be an assassin. But the ANBU were responsible for a variety of things, weren't they? He didn't have to be a killing machine.

One thing's for sure: he couldn't go off gallivanting with the ero-sennin now. Even when he had still been a chuunin, it pissed off Tsunade-obaachan when Naruto suddenly disappeared from the village and she had a mission for him. As jounin, he'd have to be more reliable, Naruto thought to himself solemnly.

The sun was gone now, totally extinguished from the firmament. Yet, there was a sort of leftover glow that eased the transition of day into night. Naruto stood at the empty gardens of the Uchiha property, among the neatly trimmed flowering bushes that lined the lanes that connected the various buildings of the sector. He wondered curiously if that was where Sasuke poured his free time, wondered why his friend chose to associate with ghosts instead of real people.

Lights were flickering on in the various parts of the village, now. Here in the Uchiha sector, there was only one street lamp lit, the one in front of the entrance of the main house. It was another of those giant doorways that were almost gates. It was here Naruto knocked.

Moments later, the door opened. Naruto nearly doubled over in pain.

There was no moon yet. If there was, it was faint and far off and unreal. There was, however, that white light of the lone street lamp, which was touched by the subtlest hint of lavender. Ethereal was the effect, that mix of shadows and artificial light, and she looked even more dreamy and alien and unreachable. For a moment, she was marble come to life, wan and delicate and all sweetness. The unique rose-color, that framed her face gently, contrasted with the little frog earrings of jade, their crystal eyes peering through locks of hair, his gift when she turned twenty-one last March. Somehow, they brought attention to her liquid eyes, those gems that shimmered as they recognized him, anticipating and regal...

And his mind zeroed in on the pain, the tender, fleeting, and unforgiving pain that roiled in his stomach and threatened to bludgeon his heart to oblivion and to the ends of the-

It was foolish and he recovered quickly.

"Sakura-chan!" he whooped triumphantly. "You're wearing gama-chan!"

"Stupid," she replied, sticking her tongue out at him. "If you stay put long enough in this village, you would have noticed earlier."

"How much earlier?" he asked, scratching his head sheepishly.

"Like months?" Sakura rolled her eyes. "You're taking after Kakashi-sensei, mou! We're already almost finished kneading the third batch."

"Third batch?" he echoed as he entered after her.

She glanced at him askance. "For the cookies, silly. What's wrong with you?"

He was still puzzled, but he laughed, anyway. "Cookies for me?" he joked. "That's great. Really appreciate it."

"You should," she said to his further bemusement, waving him away. "But you know, I was afraid you were out on some adventure with Jiraiya-sama again and that you won't get my note. Hokage-sama was ranting about that just yesterday. You should have seen her."

"Wha!" he burst out indignantly. "Tsunade-obaachan nearly killed me the other day already! What did she want this time?"

"That you stay put, Naruto," she explained patiently. "And how was your mission, Mr. Jounin?"

He grinned broadly. "Excellent, of course. As expected from Uzumaki Naruto!"

"That's great." Then she slapped the back of his head. "Stupid, that's not enough! It's hard enough trying to pry things out of Sasuke-kun. And I here I thought I'd never have to _beg_ you to elaborate. Tell me ever single thing! I'm dying with boredom. You have no idea..." She paused. "But you have to hold the wild horse-chase stories for a while, ne? I was trying to memorize cell counts when you came, and Sasuke-kun couldn't be bothered, so I opened the door for you."

"Cell counts? But-"

"Well, cell counts used in Konoha Hospital is different from the ones used in the field. In the field, medics are forced to do emergency heals. In the hospital, the doctors' goals are different. There are several theories on regrowth of massive tissue obliteration, so there are several sets of cell counts used by various schools of thought..."

She stopped, a vague expression coming to her face. She continued her walk to the Uchiha kitchen, cloaked in utter self-absorption.

Naruto gazed at her back, allowing her to walk a few steps in front of him, ignoring her scholarly mumbles. It imbalanced him greatly, the way the pain blossomed in his chest by simply seeing her that way. To knock on the Uchiha door and see _her_ open it... It was disconcerting.

It was inevitable.

Naruto knew she was the most constant thing Sasuke had in his life. He shouldn't begrudge his oldest friend that, should he? And he had always known, anyway, that Haruno Sakura was and always would be in love with Uchiha Sasuke.

Or was she?

Ironically, if love meant endless chasing and glomping and preening, then Sakura no longer was in love, not the way she was as a pubescent love-struck girl. Somehow, the day Sasuke left-or rather, the day Naruto came back without Sasuke-Sakura decided there were more important things than pining away for a sullen boy, like becoming a medical specialist. Nowadays, she treated Naruto and Sasuke the same, bossed and babied them the same way

But what did that say anyway, thought Naruto. He didn't endlessly vie for Sakura's attention anymore; neither did Lee. Did that say anything about what they truly felt? Even now, he got tempted by the casualness of Sakura towards him—what was there to lose if he dared court her again? And then moments like this woke him up. Don't be stupid, his guts would say. You're over her. But he knew he wasn't.

Sasuke was sitting there, alone in his kitchen, molding dough in his hands with a curious single-mindedness that was almost laughable. Flour dusted his dark, unruly hair, the sleeves of the black shirt he wore under the flak jacket, and the simple midnight blue apron he wore that had—what else?—the emblem of a fan in front. He scowled as the damp mixture stuck to his rolling pin and tore a yawning hole on the dough he was flattening. Sprinkling more flour all over the place, he scraped the sticky mixture off the rolling pin and kneaded it into the dough once again. This time, the flour and egg mixture flattened out prettily on the table, and Sasuke began cutting out various shapes from it. Naruto was staring at him in fascination.

"Dobe, they're raw," he spoke up suddenly. "Don't get any bright ideas."

Because Naruto was Naruto, he flared up at that. "Like I want to be poisoned!" he retorted. "Essence of Sasuke, ewwww..."

Sasuke merely continued punching out shurikens and leaves with his cookie cutter.

"You know, you're pretty good at this," Naruto observed moments later, as Sasuke laid the cookies on buttered trays of aluminum.

"..."

"Where did you learn to bake, huh, Sasuke?"

"..."

Naruto was leaning back against the counter behind the avenger. Bored at the lack of response, he began looking around the kitchen instead. It was then he noticed they were the only two people in there. "Where's Sakura-chan?" he asked.

"Out of my way, wherever she is," replied Sasuke with an indifferent shrug.

Naruto raised an eyebrow at him dubiously. "Out of your way and studying. Uh-huh. So you volunteered to do her baking project."

Sasuke was staring at him. "This is my contribution, you dobe. Or did your bird brain already forget?"

"Everybody keeps saying that," Naruto growled in irritation.

"..."

Forced to concentrate, Naruto thought hard. Then blinked. "Oh, yeah, it's the 9th today!" he crowed excitedly. "Then what are we doing in your house, Zazuge?" Panic spread on his whiskered face. "Holy shit, we gotta do some serious preparation in my pad!"

"Didn't she tell you?" his companion muttered unenthusiastically.

"Tell me what?"

Grumble, grumble.

"What? Speak up, bastard!"

"Your birthday party will be held here," Sakura's voice suddenly came. "Sasuke-kun volunteered to hold it here, since his house is much bigger than mine or yours or Iruka-sensei's."

"Whoa." Naruto was honestly speechless. Afraid he'd break down like a little girl, he pulled himself together and plunged on, cheekily batting his eyelashes at the glowering Uchiha. "Wow. And Sasuke-chan's even baking me cookies!"

"Hey, don't forget about me." Sakura sauntered to the oven. Taking a mitt from the wide pockets of her dress, she opened the oven door and the glorious aroma of freshly baked cookies permeated the room. Naruto swooned.

"Essence of Sasuke," he said weakly, mouth watering.

"Yummy, huh?" And she laughed wickedly.

"Both of you useless scum," broke Sasuke's voice in irritation. "Get out of my way." He stood up, took the hot trays from Sakura, and motioned her away. He laid the pastry-laden tray on the cold counter beside the stove and proceeded in loading in new trays into the oven.

Naruto saw how their hands brushed subtly, how she bit her lip at his icy rejection, how she smiled secretly when he didn't complain about her assistance from behind. But then, she was giggling again. "Isn't he possessive of his kitchen?" she asked Naruto with a smirk. "Only shows how much time he spends here."

"Woman, go away," Sasuke snapped as he transferred the cookies to cooling racks. "Finish what you're supposed to be doing so that you can be useful here."

Sakura sniffed. "He's flaunting it," she complained to Naruto. "Listen to him order us around. Order me around, anyway." She sighed. "Behave, you two."

And she disappeared.

Unlike the two of them, Haruno Sakura was chuunin. She didn't take this year's jounin exams, for she was busy studying for a major exam for medical specialists. She had been preparing for more than a year now. Team 7 supported her all the way, did their best to help her in their own ways.

Speaking of exams...

"You didn't tell her," Naruto suddenly said.

"Tell her what?" Sasuke replied shortly.

"About the jounin exam."

"Why should I tell her?"

"Because it's the sort of thing friends do."

"... she doesn't need to know."

"They weren't fair to you, you know."

"Doesn't matter. In the end, it's the result that counts." He paused. "And it would have been different if I had taken the test alone."

Silence. Naruto decided that this night had given him too many surprises. And this was the scariest. Never mind Sasuke baking, but Sasuke saying... Sasuke telling him...

"Stupid bastard," Naruto finally croaked, breaking the awkward moment. "The words of the Kyuubi kid doesn't weigh much. Where's the Uchiha pride when you need it?"

Sasuke huffed indignantly. "Just shut up and wash those trays, dobe," he ordered instead. "I have other stuff to do. Noodles don't just fall from the sky, you moron."

Naruto did a double-take, jaws hitting the floor. "W-wha?" he said in disbelief. "We're making ramen, too?"

"..."

But Naruto was already doing the victory dance around the kitchen. "WHOOHOOHOO! I knew you guys would see it my way! Life is good! WHOO!"

"..."

"Hey, hey! Who finally convinced you guys to change the menu? Was it Iruka-sensei?"

"..."

"I know, I know! It was Kakashi-sensei. It was his advanced birthday gift to me!"

"..."

"Hinata-chan, then? She's so nice, nobody can resist her! Right? Right!"

"..."

"AAAAH! It has to be TSUNADE-OBAACHAN!"

"Shut the hell up, you're disturbing people!"

"Stupid Zazuge, you don't have neighbors, anyway. Whoo! Do you realize what that means? We can party till dawn tomorrow! And nobody would give a damn! Bwa ha ha! Life is good."

Uzumaki Naruto, age twenty, soon to be twenty one. He had mentors, friends, ramen in abundance, and a party that was going to rock Konohagure no Sato.

Life was good, indeed.

* * *

It was said that the night sky was the parchment on which the destiny of men was etched, a glib oracle that prophesied with a certainty that was spear-deep and a duplicity that left one with riddles instead of answers. They would start at a twilight like this, start their days like the beasts of the woods at a time when ordinary men ended theirs, and sit outdoors till the beginnings of morning stained the horizon. Years were spent charting the movement of the planets and constellations across the firmament, through the nights that skittered quickly under the moon and its phases, through the passage of the seasons in its unalterable course. Men had wasted lifetimes trying to decipher the mumbling of the mute stars, trying with all their wisdom and acumen to best Fate in her own game, trying to predict and forestall the inevitable. 

Neji himself made it a point to keep his famous eyes on earthly matters, preferably on things that were at his eye level; it was foolish to strain ones neck unnecessarily, after all. Even without activating his Byakugan, the house of Hyuuga loomed large behind his back, as it always would, as he sat atop the walls of the huge property. He had gone there to await the return of the Hyuuga heir, knowing confidently he need not hunt the streets of the village to find her. True enough, just a few minutes ago, before the sun had started setting, he sighted Hinata-sama coming out of a forest trail. With her was none other than Uzumaki Naruto.

Neji had found himself watching them with something akin to interest. Hinata had been barred from going to missions just yesterday, so understandably, she wore civilian clothing, the white fabric of her kimono glowing under the dwindling light. Her face was upturned toward her companion's, watching his animated gesticulations, listening to the chatter that Neji could only hear as a sonorous, sinuating rumble. Naruto was in full-uniform, whiskered grin undiminished by the growing darkness.

A ninja protecting his princess; the image was amusing enough to make Neji snort lightly. Ninjas and princesses were segregated into two different worlds. That was simple fact.

Hinata-sama bowed low in apology as the two reached the gates. Naruto would be a allowed entry, as always, but tonight a servant would respectfully request that the heir's honorable guest change to an attire more suitable for a formal dinner. As expected, Hinata had spared her friend the humiliation, spared herself the implacable stare of her displeased father. As expected, too, Naruto took it all in stride, easing her guilt by rapping a knuckle at the top of her head. The tinkling tones of her laughter floated up to where Neji sat, before dissipating into the wide space of the courtyard below him. Then the two parted, but not before Naruto waved in his direction. Neji simply nodded in acknowledgment.

He had a deep respect for the younger man. To Naruto, he attributed the clarity with which he looked upon the world, the liberty from years and years of bitterness. "Your eyes are better than mine," he had said once to the blond jounin, but it wasn't only that. Naruto had a quirky way of instinctively understanding the most complex, most intangible concepts in the most ridiculously simple terms. Best of all, he could _believe_-quite stubbornly, in fact.

That was why Neji knew he was going to be trouble.

The ability to dream, to dream and act on those dreams, to face the infinite blue of the skies and see possibilities instead of being overwhelmed by the hindrances was a lesson he would always be indebted to Naruto. Still, Neji was a pragmatist at heart. A bird wouldn't simply slam its body repeatedly against its mesh cage in hopes of tearing it down with force. He knew that some things were slow to change, sometimes didn't at all. Neji thought Naruto would have learned this simple lesson by now. But then, Naruto rarely let things like that get in his way.

And again, Neji felt in his bones that the incorrigible man was going to be trouble.

Hinata was obviously angry about being assigned a bodyguard. She had always been mild-mannered, of course, and to many, it would appear she accepted her loss of freedom stoically. But he saw how she walked out of the house early that afternoon, saw how her eyes were a distant murky gray, saw the hard-set of her jaws, saw the willful pace that hinted at an emerging desperation to run away. Beyond that quiet anger was sadness; she had uncharacteristically donned the white kimono as a sign of mourning.

Neji neither liked nor disliked his assignment. There was a possibility of a conspiracy against the Hyuuga heir afoot. Therefore, the heir had to be protected at all costs. Obviously, Hinata-sama did not believe these conspiracy theories circulating the clan, but she was wise enough to give them the benefit of the doubt. She attributed her near deaths to her weakness, foolish enough to think that others would overlook her, that they would see her in the deprecatory way she saw herself. Ergo, Neji thought, she was angry at herself and sad at her perceived inability to change. Classical Hinata.

But then, it would be interesting to see if anything could actively anger his cousin, particularly concerning her love life. Hinata more than liked Naruto, but the latter was as dense as a rock and Hinata would never make the first move. But that didn't even matter. The question was as simple as what would Naruto do when he found that his friend was going to be commanded to marry his genin cellmate Uchiha Sasuke.

Neji never forgot what Naruto said that time they fought each other in their first chuunin exam. He'd change the Hyuuga, he said. He wasn't Hokage yet, but had that time come?

As compelling as the question was, Neji was wrenched from his reveries. A man was coming out of one of the side gates of the mansion. The man wasn't trying to hide, but he certainly wasn't flaunting the fact that he was out this night of all nights.

Hyuuga Hanatarou was important in the clan. He had strong connections to the village government. He was entrusted to take care of the Hyuuga's interests and was involved in the political ventures of the clan-as that banquet tonight obviously was. Neji himself was expected to be there.

The banquet was going to be held in honor of a prince from the country of Rock and his entourage. He was most likely in search of a wife, like some other noble visitor they have had in the past. And in the past, Neji saw that Hyuuga did not give its daughters up so easily. Which is why he noted how the family was suddenly throwing the heir herself at the feet of the sole-surviving Uchiha.

Neji was ANBU. Needless to say, he could kill a man without that man even knowing. He needed information now and he was going to get it.

He followed Hyuuga Hanatarou as he made his way to the center of the town.

In an alley, as the moon was slowly engulfed by a thick clump of clouds, Hyuuga Hanatarou stopped. Neji tensed, awaiting what the man was going to do next.

"Neji-kun, please show yourself," the older man requested mildly. "I am too old to be jumping up at rooftops."

Neji was impressed. Somewhat. The rooftop was an obvious choice; the alley was narrow, straight, and clean.

"You are wondering why I know you. Indeed, who knows not of your genius?"

Neji smirked. Merely a quick mind, after all, this Hanatarou person. He was wrong about Neji wondering. Neji did not wonder. He waited and observed.

"You want to know my business, of course. Understandably, I seem quite suspicious. But I am only on my way to the home of Uchiha Sasuke, for reasons you already know. Would you like to accompany me?"

Obviously, Neji did not. He was just standing there, a few feet away from him, as he probably discovered when the clouds finally uncovered the moon.

"And you must also be wondering why I stopped here, of all places." He sounded embarrassed. "Mitokado-sama lives just on the next block. He will accompany me as I fulfill my duty to clan and village."

Neji simply turned around.

"It is none of my concern," he said and disappeared, now sure that the stars had nothing to do with Hyuuga Hinata's unfolding destiny.

4:30 011805

* * *

Thanks to Seiyo and Midnightcrow for betareading. (Happy birthday, Yachiru ♥) 

Thanks to those who commented in Prologue and Chapter 1. You've given a good picture of how this fic reads so far. Thanks, kaiyrah, for the info on Team Gai.

To Bronwen Stx and all readers, welcome. I'll be honored to have you along for the long haul. :D lol

Comments, constructive critisicism, complaints, etc. very welcome.


	4. Chapter 3: Two Heads Are Better Than One

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, etc. Borrowing for the purposes of entertainment, procrastination, and basically, escapism.

Warning: Possible spoilers on the so-called Naruto 1.

**Chapter 3: Two Heads Are Better Than One**

Pride. Dignity. Strength.

These three words had come to define the clan of Hyuuga through its long, dark history. Their ancestral home was reserved and lofty, was intertwined with the family folklore, those half-forgotten triumphs and tragedies that once truly happened to someones from the dim past and were passed on from one generation to the next as fanciful tales to while away time. In some ways, the ancient architecture mimicked the ways of its inhabitants. Underneath the sturdy aromatic hardwood was concealed the immense strength of stone. Underneath the reserved conduct and highly structured social rituals was concealed what the children of Hyuuga were at heart: deadly ninjas.

The whole quadrangular compound was separated from the rest of the village by stone walls. Its massive gates opened to a courtyard, where members of the family sparred, often the older genins whose training was hampered by the smaller spaces offered by the various training rooms in the complex. Of late, these training rooms remained deserted; the laughter of children was now, more than ever, seldom to grace the empty halls of the mansion. In terms of both lineage and population, the Hyuuga was older than the other ninja clans of the Leaf.

One of the younger faces among the white-eyed Hyuuga was that of their heiress, Hinata. Currently, the said young woman was trying her best to remain inconspicuous, a thing she was particularly good at being a jounin and... basically, being herself. Considering that most of her relatives were high-ranking ninjas with Byakugan that could practically see through walls, the quiet and unassuming girl knew she was going to have a hard time sneaking to her room. So instead of blending with the shadows or using basic shinobi skills of self concealment, she boldly walked across the courtyard and headed not toward the main door but through one of the Zen gardens that decorated the winding pathways between the branch houses and the main house. She forced herself to relax and to truly believe that skipping through the abstract formation of basalt rocks rising from a sea of sand was the most natural thing in the world. At least, she was nimble enough not ruin the painstakingly arranged area of mediation, and her heart rate remained serene.

From the wooden bridge she was now safely standing on, she looked across to run her eyes among the swirling patterns etched in the white sands, blued by the coming night. Perhaps it was because of the lighting, but for a moment, the basalt rocks did look like islands rising from the ocean, the form of the glittering waves around them frozen in time. But then, Hinata ruefully walked away when she remembered about being out for too long that afternoon. Of course, what she regretted was having to prowl about in her own home; it was never ever about spending time with Naruto.

Hinata suddenly giggled. Out loud. In the haven of mediation.

Generations of Hyuuga must be turning in their graves.

She bit her lip fiercely to shut in the bubbling laughter, reminding herself that she was trying to be furtive. That helped a little; Naruto mistaking the abstract garden for a giant sandbox and bringing the village urchins to play there was funny all right, but it wouldn't be helpful when a battalion of Hyuuga females manage to get their hands on her. Hinata walked a little faster.

Stepping lightly was useless. Every single floorboard in the Hyuuga compound was loose enough to creak softly, so that nobody could ever sneak in the whole mansion. So even when Hinata entered the main house through the side door the bridge led to and found the narrow hallway she entered into deserted, she did not yet rejoice. Anybody could suddenly come when they heard her footsteps. And she really wasn't keen on running into anybody, be it her father, Raina-san, Hisana-san, Aiko-san or even Hanabi-chan. At least, it was dark; perhaps, the servants have yet to light the finely wrought paper lanterns that lined the walls. An incidental passer-by might not be interested enough to find out who she was.

Of course, the fact that she was the Hyuuga heiress did ruin the cloak darkness provided. The entire branch family probably had the feel of her very presence memorized.

Like that.

Hinata did not freeze. Her heart began to steadily speed up its beating, as her senses heightened, her concentration attuned to her environment. Her pace did not alter as she turned a corner to lead away from the more populous part of the house, but her hand, which was hidden by the draping sleeves of the kimono, was securely gripping a stiletto.

She was not alone in the hallway. Most likely, her unseen companion was not one of the Hyuuga women who would scold her for not being in the near-searing, perfumed bath where she should have been soaking in more than an hour ago. It was most likely not any member of her family at all. No Hyuuga would ever dare sneak upon her, no matter what their opinions were about their pusillanimous future leader.

There were visitors in the house, people who were not aware of the undercurrents of the Hyuuga's life and customs. A prince of the country of Rock was here, a young man whose whole experience with the katana he carried probably encompassed mere ceremonies. But then, that young man was accompanied by a four-man team of ninjas.

Cloud nins. Ninjas from the very village that tried to kidnap her as a child, the reason why Neji-nii's father was dead.

Hinata swallowed. They would not dare. They would not dare try anything in the very house they had betrayed once. Konohagakure no Sato had regained its status as a shinobi power. The Sand, honor-bound to repay their own betrayal of eight years ago, were fierce allies. The Cloud would not dare risk a deadly war, not when their own Kumigakure no Sato was waning toward anarchy.

The Byakugan then. After seeing, she would only have a split second to attack but that was enough for her.

There!

The chakra-charged stiletto flew and hit the ceiling with a quivering twang. Her enemy dodged it by a mere inch, but was quick to regroup.

Behind her–!

But the faceless opponent of the raven-haired Gentle-fist expert, proved a mite faster than her. A hand looped around her mouth and dragged her into the shadows, where the fierce struggle ensued unseen, swallowed as another secret of the shadowed house of Hyuuga.

* * *

The night had consolidated into its usual pitch blackness—at least, here in the Uchiha sector it had. Light was scarce in that unpeopled section of the village; it wasn't needed much, really. Its lone inhabitant could navigate its narrow lanes with nothing but the moon and stars to guide him, and if they failed to shine through an overcast, powerful memories had already etched in his brain a map that could easily be summoned by unbidden emotions. Scrimping on electricity did save money, as well. Despite what most people thought, he did not have bottomless coffers in his basement. 

The early constellations were patchy in places, the moon at times totally devoured by dully luminescent clouds, very unlike the almost spotless sky of a while ago. The golden afternoon had been a gorgeous end to a trying day-even he wasn't that thick to deny that. He had been at peace for a few hours, and peace was not something Uchiha Sasuke had in abundance. Yet tonight, he was troubled, plagued by an inner disturbance that could not be named, could not be defined as concisely as simple pain or anger.

He did not care what other people thought; he wouldn't have shown his face to this village again, if he did. Actions had consequences, that he knew. Regret was meaningless, and he did not waste his time wishing to undo what was done. There was nothing else but acceptance. Even to contemplate the alternatives was cowardice, and one thing Sasuke was not was a coward.

But he could lie damnably, even to himself. He was not as strong as he thought he was, hoped he was. Eventually, he always found himself seeking her. It was stupid and self-destructive. He seemed to be seeking vestiges of the old times in her, and that was too attributable to regret for comfort. Besides, what he sought was something older and deeper than the bond they had as Team 7; it was useless seeking it in her.

Eight years ago, he had told her that they were different from one another. It was still true, nowadays, even more so perhaps. He had done things she could never even imagine. And why she accepted him... naivete.

He hated himself for seeking her. It weakened him like shackles, kept him dependent. True, she had helped him survive the aftermath, the time of re-embracing the village, and he was deeply indebted to her, but she was hampering his transition to independence. He had only one goal now: to repay the village what he owed.

Treason warranted the spilling of the traitor's blood. He had been more than willing to die for his betrayal. He had no high ideals to justify his leap into the abyss. For vengeance's sake, he had plunged into darkness, and when all was done, he had been prepared to pay the price. Let justice run its course, as he had sought it for years. But then his life had been spared. Therefore, his life was now the property of the village, all the days of it. That was satisfactory. He had no complaints, about that. In fact, having a reason to wake up and face sunrise eased the labor of having to do so each day.

But living for the village... he didn't expect it necessary to have to stitch his life back with that of the other people. Sakura helped him, and Naruto, of course, and Kakashi and the others. But to that woman, as one would to a mother, he had clung like a pathetic child, hiding under her skirt whenever he was picked on.

It was high time he grew up.

That evening, Naruto had regaled them with the story of his day, entertaining even the austere host himself. His first mission seemed successful, and as usual, full of his irrational antics. Sakura had doubled over with laughter in spite of herself, in between her usual expressions of exasperation. Her eyes had been alight like sun-struck marbles, had danced around with interest even as she feigned a disapproving expression. Playing a trick on a paying customer was highly unprofessional, she had chided the unrepentant Naruto, but it was obvious she was jealous. She probably had close to only five missions in the past month.

But then Sakura had disappeared afterwards to again grapple with her books. At seven o'clock, Sasuke suddenly declared he needed to buy sugar. He told Naruto that she would have to go home then to get it out of the way. Naruto could have accompanied her through the unlighted thoroughfare at a later hour, but he wasn't the type to sit for long hours skewering raw chicken on sticks and Sasuke didn't trust him to return afterwards. At least, that's what he said.

So now, she was walking beside him, her shoulder mere inches away from his, yet still he sought her and still he wished her away. His warring thoughts were soon displaced by the sudden awareness of the space they shared, not touching but somehow intimate still. Sasuke was oddly satisfied that she was comfortable being alone with him, that she did not need to start a mundane conversation just to blot out the pervading silence.

"How come Naruto's allowed to sleep in your house and I'm not?"

Okay, so perhaps it was too much to ask for her to stay quiet, but where the hell did that question come from? It was only half past seven. He stopped walking and turned to stare at her.

"What?" Sakura drew away defensively, green eyes widening. "It's a valid question."

Valid question? Had she lost her mind? When Naruto interrupted her studies to tell her that Sasuke would be the one to walk her home, all she said was, "Oh, okay." Now, fifteen minutes later, she was asking why. And who said anything about Naruto sleeping in his house?

"Don't look at me like I've sprouted tangerine horns! I just suddenly realized that the two of you just kicked me out."

Sasuke ignored her and continued walking.

"But really, why?"

Because he didn't have bed sheets to put in the spare rooms. All the sheets in the whole Uchiha property had been ransacked to cover the dead, and he never had reason to buy new ones. Did she have to know that? As for Naruto, the idiot could sleep on the kitchen floor for all he cared. Of course, there's always the sofa, if the blond wanted something softer.

"Forget it." She sighed. "The question just popped up in my mind and I blurted it out like an idiot."

He hefted the three books he carried for her. "Where's your book on surgery?" he asked.

"Eh?" Sakura blinked in surprise. She glanced at the other three she was carrying. "I left it at home. Why?"

"It's the one you read most."

"Well, yeah. I didn't think I'd be studying much in the first place. Just wanted to peek at stuff here and there."

And she had brought six thick volumes with her.

"Of course, I did get carried away." She sighed ruefully. "I'm sorry. I just don't agree with one of those theories. The last time I dared disturb a dormant Heaven curse seal my patient beca-" She stopped abruptly. "But you already know about that."

Yes, he did know about that. Very well, in fact. "What are you contributing tomorrow again?" he asked instead.

"Beef teriyaki and rice. And spring rolls." Her eyes were busy tracing the illustration on one book cover.

"The rice can't be cooked till tomorrow," he stated as-a-matter-of-factly. "We already finished wrapping the rolls; it can't be fried tonight either. And your mother's making the teriyaki."

"...Oh. Right."

"And the cookies are done, as well," he added. "Your instructions were efficient."

"Well, I suppose, you're right," she conceded with a sigh. "I'm not gonna be of further use there tonight, so I might as well study."

There were a few more blocks away from her house. Sakura was quiet the rest of the way, perhaps tinkering with some involved theory in her head. Her eyes were focused far into the night before them, her fine eyebrows strung together by the wrinkles of concentration on her forehead. With little teeth that glistened like pearls in the dark, she chewed on her lower lip. The delicate flesh was now swollen and was the color of violent scarlet.

A narrow passage way in between two buildings sitting too close together forced Sasuke to fall behind her. He watched her steps as she walked through the trash-strewn alley; it wouldn't do to have the absent-minded kunoichi trip and cause him unnecessary hassle. Besides, she was wearing a dress. It was a simple and gray affair, functional and loose enough for her to be comfortable in, but it did not hide the fact she was a woman nor would it help her fight just in case some lowlife decided to take advantage of the supposedly weaker sex. Females walked differently from males, see. There was a certain sway to their hips that no man could ever hope to ape. Sasuke had learned to observe the differences well, for little things like the tilt of a person's pelvis could be enough to uncover a simple disguise. Not all shinobi operations relied on chakra and jutsu, after all.

Sakura shook her head, as if to dispel illogical thoughts, the stubby ponytail that was kept by a kerchief following her movement. She cut her pink hair regularly. Right now, it was barely long enough to tie back. Tendrils fell out to frame her face, but not thickly enough to hide the distinct twinkle of the jade earrings Naruto gave her. Sasuke could remember the summer day she started wearing those, and he forcefully banished the out-of-placed memory from his head.

"Ne, Sasuke-kun." She was speaking again, he thought almost regretfully. Inevitably, when she spoke, he'd answer with something that would discourage her to speak more. Not necessarily a bad thing, that was, but it did ruin his peace of mind.

He grunted a minute or so later, just to indicate he was listening grudgingly.

"Did they give you a hard time at the jounin qualification exam?"

Not good. It was a yes-or-no question that left him little room to maneuver. How did she manage to pick that question of all questions, anyway? And to attack him with such a sudden change in topic? All afternoon, she had been prying out the details of his first mission as jounin, and he gave little by little, as fiercely as she pulled. About the jounin exam, however, she had immediately asked about after the event itself, meeting him at Tsunade's office. "How was it?" she had asked. He had shrugged and had said he was jounin. She had been satisfied with that and never asked him about it again.

So why did she suddenly ask him about the exam now? Was it to catch him off-guard? He gritted his teeth. Did she think for even a moment he was going to fall for such a cheap trick?

"Please don't lie." Her voice was soft. She didn't bother to turn, didn't bother to settle her emerald gaze on his scowling visage. And he was damn glad she didn't. That would have been an even dirtier trick, he thought sullenly.

"No."

"But they almost didn't pass you."

"...Aa."

"I see."

"Are you done now?"

"Yes. Thank you."

They were in front of her house, so he wasn't quite sure what exactly her gratitude was for.

"I'd ask you in, if not for poor Naruto all alone in your house," she told him with a smile as she gathered her other books from him.

"Aa." Either way, he wasn't going to accept and she knew it. He didn't see why it mattered, telling him that.

"Good night, Sasuke-kun."

Sasuke answered. He wasn't as rude as people made him out to be, but he answered too softly and too grumpily. He didn't see why that mattered either, since the door had already shut behind her.

On his way home, he passed by the supermarket and purchased two bags of sugar, one white, one brown.

(Why did he say sugar, of all things? Why not soy sauce? Or pepper? There were no sacks of pepper stacked in his pantry. )

The empty streets of the Uchiha sector now lay before him, a gutted dream. Even now, he still saw vestiges of the old community he remembered as a child. Sometimes, he'd think he saw a flicker of shadow at the corner of one street, as if the rest of the clan were furtively hiding, chuckling quietly as they played a trick on the head's youngest son. But of course, that was not the case. It was foolish to think that way. (Besides, the only time he really thought those inanities was that morning after when he was seven years old and the only time he ever got drunk, the evening he turned twenty and was forced to chug down barrels of sake.)

There were two figures under the lone street lamp. Sasuke watched them disinterestedly, waiting for them to dissipate, but they didn't. They must be alive, he decided, and soon, he confirmed his inference when he recognized that the two were not Uchiha. They were waiting for him.

Mitokado Homura and Hyuuga Hanatarou were elders. Sasuke had seen them when he was tried for defecting from the village years ago. Other officials had also visited him over the last five years, closely monitoring how he obeyed the provisos and restrictions imposed upon him, as he gradually eased back into normalcy and welcomed obscurity. As far as he knew, Sasuke didn't break any laws or any of their agreements. They had no obvious reason to want to talk to him.

They greeted him first, which saved him the trouble of having to decide whether or not he should initiate conversation.

"Good evening, Sasuke," said the dark-haired Hyuuga, his white eyes striking even above a fatherly smile.

"Hanataro-sama, Mitokado-sama." Sasuke bowed to both slightly. Then, he turned toward the entrance of his house, assuming they would follow him.

"Sasuke-kun, I think it's best if we proceed with our business here."

The avenger turned to look levelly at the Hyuuga. "Here," he repeated without emotion. Here was the open space in front of the Uchiha's main building, the head's dwelling place. Here was an empty square soaked with darkness, only haphazardly lit by the lonely street lamp.

"This would be a brief meeting, Uchiha-kun," spoke the gray-haired, bespectacled Mitokado. "We are here merely to offer some suggestions."

In his position, there were no such things as suggestions. Words from the higher officials were simply orders he had to follow. Sasuke was no fool. He nodded once in assent.

"You have reached the age where many men would start thinking about very important aspects of their future," began Hyuuga Hanataro. "It is the duty of every Leaf to nurture and raise the younger generations, but for individuals like yourself, there is an added responsibility: you must produce and ready an heir for your house. True, not many ninjas marry at your age, a mere score, correct? Your case is a little different, due to the tragedies that had befallen your clan in the past."

"You want me to pick a wife," Sasuke summarized the speech. "Now."

Sasuke had sworn to revive his clan as a child. Precocious as he was then, he had always regarded the ambition distant and eventual, something that had to be done sooner or later—but not now. It was never _now_.

"You are the sole Uchiha left on the face of the earth," said Mitokado Homura. "The village had greatly been affected by the loss of the illustrious clan. They had always been an integral component in the daily workings of Konoha."

Sasuke's nostrils flared ever so slightly at the old man's pronouncements. Granted, the Uchiha clan was important. They comprised the bulk of the military police that used to maintain peace in the village and control the more ambitious and foolhardy ninjas. Nowadays, there was no formal, organized force to handle the said role, and it depressed the resources of the ANBU, in particular. However, the part about being the only Uchiha left alive... Did anybody truly know what Uchiha Itachi had been doing the time between massacring his entire family and dying by the hand of the only kin he spared? Who knew if aside from plotting to obtain the Kyuubi, the sociopath had decided to breed offspring that would one day "measure his vessel," as he called it? No matter how farfetched the idea, it was a possibility. For all he knew, Sasuke could have nephews and nieces mothered by whores, or worse, by some S-class genius nin with an equally fearsome bloodline limit and equally disturbed ideologies as his brother's. Somehow, he thought the idea sickly amusing.

"I will look into the matter," the taciturn young man finally replied.

"Ah, but this is where our suggestion comes in," said Hyuuga Hanatarou with a formal bow.

Suggestions? Ah, so it all boiled down to some political agreement that needed the backing of his clan's name. Sasuke waited impassively.

"Hyuuga Hinata-sama."

Hyuuga Hinata? Sasuke frowned. She was that girl from Kurenai's team. He graduated from the academy the same year she did, as did her team mates Aburame Shino and Inuzuka Kiba. She was the silent dark-haired woman with the fierce white eyes, the first in their age group to become jounin...

And Uzumaki Naruto's friend.

Was this some plot to block their relationship just because Naruto bore the Kyuubi and was therefore deemed unworthy by the Hyuuga? Or was it merely an effective way for them to bind him, Uchiha Sasuke, to an ancient, powerful family, thereby binding him to the village as well?

But Naruto's involvement with the Hyuuga girl was platonic as can be. Besides, that dobe was in love with... somebody else. No, Sasuke thought. They simply wanted to secure his chains well.

But a Hyuuga? And not just any Hyuuga. Perhaps, the sharingan was that invaluable an asset, but the Hyuuga heiress herself? Sasuke's eyes narrowed. He was no hero or saint, true, but neither was he an imbecile.

"The union of the two powerful bloodlines have innumerable possibilities." Mitokado Homura was speaking again. "It is an idea worth taking more than a second look at, Uchiha Sasuke. Do not scoff at it."

Yes, it required more than a second look, Sasuke silently agreed. He had to tread softly now. The Godaime Hokage was not the only power in Konohagakure no Sato.

The other gentleman suddenly laughed, breaking the growing tension between the three men. Both Sasuke and Mitokado turned to look at the Hyuuga.

"Forgive my seeming vulgarity of humor, Mitokado-sama," Hyuuga Hanataro said, smiling self-mockingly. "I just realized how all this must be sounding to Sasuke-kun here."

Two extremely influential men were standing before him, at night time, in the deserted streets of the Uchiha sector. What did they think it sounded like to him? An invitation to a damned cotillion?

"As you must have known well from a very tender age, the world isn't a terribly kind place. I'm sure you would readily agree with me, Sasuke-kun. So I know you think it's a very odd proposition, to recommend that you marry my future clan leader. I assure you, I am acting on the best interests of the Hyuuga. You can say that I only look upon yours peripherally, a practical interest that stems merely from a desire to heighten my chances of clinching an agreement with you."

"Hanatarou–!"

"Please, let me finish, Mitokado-sama." He tilted his head towards his senior respectfully, then turned back to the deadpan Uchiha. "I am sure you feel trepidation toward such a venture. After all, we have been presenting only the perks for you. Imagine, a formidable kunoichi like our Hinata-sama, a fine woman from a lofty family of eminent social status and carrier of a legendary bloodline limit. And you... well, let's be honest to one another, shall we? You don't exactly have a clean slate, do you, Sasuke-kun?"

"Enough euphemisms," answered Sasuke coolly. "Get to the point."

"The point is, you would be a priceless asset to the Hyuuga and the clan would be willing to overlook your more grievous errors in life. You are Uchiha. _The_ Uchiha. There is a reason why the name Avenger is used to frighten genin rookies across shinobi countries. You have the pedigree and reputation worthy of Hinata-sama. Best of all, your wonderful blood will add to our gene pool."

It had been said that the Uchiha had its roots in the Hyuuga. It was no secret, however, that the Hyuuga had dwindled over generations. As with many clans of advanced blood limits, the Hyuuga interbred to some extent to prevent their blood from getting diluted. The Uchiha blood would indeed add to their gene pool, without weakening it. And Hyuuga blood would add to the Uchiha's. It all boiled down to genetics.

It all boiled down to the most ridiculous idea he had ever heard.

"I am not saying the clan would simply marry you off to our dearest Hinata-sama." Hanatarou said solemnly. "The Hyuuga and Uchiha... both have involved customs and rituals regarding matters like this. But I do urge you to consider this, Sasuke-kun. Present your suit to Hiashi-sama. He will surely lend you his ears. And if not... It won't be the end of the world. You would lose nothing."

Mitokado sagely nodded in agreement. "We will leave you to sort your thoughts," he said. "This must not have been an easy conversation for you."

"We take our leave, Sasuke-kun. And remember: the Hokage will be very supportive of you, regardless of who you choose. We only ask that you choose well."

With that they disappeared into the darkness of that shrouded house of the spent Uchiha. Its remaining seed was left alone in the silent courtyard, now even more troubled than he was earlier that evening.

January 18, 2005 16:57

* * *

... 

I had notes. I can't remember them. Oo

Thanks to Seiyo and Midnightcrow for betareading. (Advanced Happy Birthday, Seiyo. ♥)

Thanks to those who commented in Chapter 2. And hello Neptune and NuttyScribbler! Hope you enjoy this fic, too! . LOL

Oh, I remember my notes now.  
1) I can't give specific release dates for the next chapters. This semester's a little too hectic for that. T.T But I'll try to update at least every two weeks.  
2) I have a parody of a certain scene in this chapter. I was encoding it, then I got bored... stuff started to get added in. If you want to read it, here's the link (http: However, I think it's more of a PG-15 thing. LOL. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Comments, constructive critisicism, complaints, etc. very welcome.


	5. Chapter 4: Rituals

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, etc. Borrowing for the purposes of entertainment, procrastination, and basically, escapism. 

Warning: Possible spoilers on the so-called Naruto 1. 

**Chapter 4: Rituals**

It was night and the biggest residential property in all of Konohagakure no Sato was lit from within by the aged incandescence of countless paper lanterns. The effect was homey—in a regal, severe sort of way. Despite the stale tranquility that haunted the halls of the mansion, there was an unmistakable snap in the movements of its inhabitants, a hint that the implacable white-eyed family was actually human. The festive air was borne from the evening's important affair, welcoming the prince from the country of Rock, and it was as contagious as that summer's flu-strain, breaking the single-mindedness of the scampering servants and breaching the usual taciturn of the more important figures. It was a remarkable thing, for phlegm was a trait shared by the members of both the main and branch families. They were rarely surprised, for they saw and perceived things moments before other people did. They rarely truly cared, for the House of Hyuuga was not one that operated on spontaneity and impulsions, was one that took comfort in fatalism, amidst the constant choking tension between destiny and dreams.

Few people moved about in the more private halls of the mansion. The sole three members of the main family were understandably nowhere in sight, preparing not only for themselves, but more for clan and village. Further into the heart of the compound was a string of apartments, surrounding a rarely visited but well-kept garden, that were nowadays vacant. Curiously, in one of such rooms, the rice paper of the decorative entrance glowed from the light of a multitude of candles, the translucent squares showcasing a vague little shadow-play courtesy of an interior that should have been empty.

A ghost, perhaps?

The notion so amused Hinata that quiet laughter rose as bubbles to the surface of her balmy bath-water. Never in her years of questing for the perfect private nook in the whole of the Hyuuga compound had she ran into a ghost. Maybe she had been mistaken for one, once or twice, but to actually sight or feel an unresolved spirit in the home of the Gentle Fist masters? The unbridled emotional rampage of poltergeists was the antithesis of the rigid self-control so valued in that house. Lonely phantoms primarily sought attention, and Hyuugas, whether alive or dead, were much too dignified for that.

"I wouldn't be so giggly, if I were you. You have less than an hour before father summons you."

Hinata's head emerged from the barely bearable hot water to meet the stern face of her sister. "I am sorry to keep you here," she said sheepishly. "You should attend to yourself, lest you get scolded on my account."

"Oh, I'm done," Hanabi said airily. "I just have to crawl into that hideous thing they call 'dress'which has zippers, unlike yours."

Hinata's eyebrows crinkled dubiously. After coming home much later than she should have, Hinata had tried to sneak to her room, hoping she could by-pass certain rituals (like the perfumed soak in the baths) and manage to get herself ready on time. A vicious attack from an unseen opponent had her leaping, dodging, and kicking through the darkened maze of halls that were either forgotten now or ignored. Finally, in the very same room they were now in, Hinata had overpowered her enemy. Anger had flared within her when she recognized the visage of her panting sister, furious that the condescending assassin would actually try to fool her with a pathetic henge no jutsu. But then, the Byakugan revealed no chakra use at all, and she realize that it was indeed her sister whom she was holding in a deadly headlock.

Nearly fainting at that realization, Hinata had collapsed against a wall in confusion and disbelief. How could she have not recognized Hanabi, her own sister? Meanwhile, Hanabi was smugly pointing at the smoking bath that had just been prepared in that spare room. (Again, with that unmistakable smirk, how could have Hinata thought her an assassin?) "Winner takes the prize," had been Hanabi's only words before manhandling her dazed elder sister into the bath tub.

Presently, Hinata spoke in her usual soft voice, "How did you find this room, sister?"

Hanabi shrugged. "I didn't find it; it was never hidden. I knew you were going to be late again. Raina, Hisana, and Aiko were alternately simmering in your room and stalking about the grounds. Not that it's my business if they decide to deep-fry you."

"Deep-frying would be mild," remarked Hinata, smiling at the chuunin. "Thank you for rescuing me, Hanabi-chan."

The sixteen year-old sniffed. "You won fair and square," she said dismissively. "I gotta hand it to you... So that is jounin. Father would be pleased, if he knew how capable you are of swift action when necessary. Of course, I _am_ recovering from my injuries I got at the recent jounin exam, which I awesomely flunked."

"You didn't have to ambush me, if you wanted to have a spar for practice," chided Hinata with a sigh.

The other merely raised an eyebrow. Hinata hated sparring.

"And I could have hurt you badly."

"That's not likely."

Hinata sighed again. What her sister said was true: the exemplary Hanabi was easily bored by mission-less days and often sought sparring partners, but Hinata was rarely one of them. The point was... the point was Hinata was paranoid, had been affected by the ridiculous whispers of conspiracy. If only she had her presence of mind about her, she would have recognized her sister by presence alone.

"My purpose was accomplished though," Hanabi was speaking again. "You didn't recognize me at all."

"No, I didn't," Hinata agreed absently. She should have slowed down and thought carefully first, should not have jumped into conclusions so quickly. In an important mission, that would have been a deadly mistake, a damning factor in success or failure. She should have, she should have... A lot of things, she should have done.

A jet of ice cold water sprayed Hinata's face without warning, sending her coughing and sputtering. "H-hanabi!" she squeaked incredulously. "What was that—?"

"Cold dose of reality." Hanabi glared at her. "Won't you even ask about my new technique?"

Hinata blinked up at her sister. "New technique?"

"Not everything's about you, oneesama. However competent a ninja you are, you couldn't possibly have recognized my presence."

"Perhaps, you have progressed that much, Hanabi," Hinata answered softly, deeply apologetic. "I'm not spending as much time with you as I should be. Please tell me about your new technique."

Hanabi stared at her as if praying for her brain to work. Hinata couldn't help but wilt under her eyes.

"Fine," the younger finally grunted. "People naturally exude chakra in tiny amounts. The body is not perfect and there will always be overflows, even when one is not using chakra, even in those who cannot use chakra. The pattern of chakra overflow is theoretically unique to each individual. In other words, there could be a ninja out there powerful enough to identify people through their pattern of chakra release because everybody releases chakra and everybody does it differently.

"As it is, capable ninjas intuitively sense change in the environment. When a person comes within sensing range of a ninja, that ninja would reflexively react based on the familiarity of that new presence. An example was what happened a while ago. You sensed a presence and you reacted to that presence violently because it was foreign to your system and therefore suspicious. Ninjas hone their senses and at a subconscious level automatically sense chakra in the environment. However, chakra overflow patterns are actually very similar in all humans. By consciously controlling the pattern of chakra overflow in your body, you can alter your own "chakra identity," but it has to be done very subtly, so the alterations won't be obvious and end up making you more suspect."

"Oh!" said Hinata in understanding. "So you were testing this technique on me. It's very effective then, since I got alarmed but"

"But not useful in actual missions, I know," said Hanabi. "Ninjas _want_ to be unobtrusive. Changing your chakra pattern is stupid and pointless, since a simple suppression of chakra overflow would do the trick. But it is one step closer to actually mimicking the presence of another person. With the Byakugan, I could observe a subject for a long time, study and perfect copying his 'chakra identity,' and eventually get close enough to the less observant companions of the subject, without alarming them at all, especially if used in conjunction with basic henge no jutsu. It seems superfluous now, but the ANBU would attest to the usefulness of such a technique."

Hinata smiled, deeply touched. Hanabi never unveiled her new techniques unfinished. When Hanabi realized Hinata was going to be late, she planned all this. She stalked the elder with the intent of making her suspicious and eventually lured Hinata into the unused apartment where a bath had been prepared, presumably by Hanabi herself. Hanabi had again bailed her out of several scoldings and long sermons.

"Thank you, Hanabi-chan."

"Enough of this sentimentality." Hanabi threw her a towel. "Hurry up. Father would be displeased if you're late."

"Ah! Yes." Hinata scrambled from the tub, quickly dried off, and started to put on the layers of clothing she had to wear with Hanabi's help.

Hanabi hated seeing their father upset, see, for Hyuuga Hiashi was rarely ruffled. She, Hinata, seemed always to disturb her father's peaceful exterior, always seemed to disappoint or displease. This was not the first time Hanabi had actively gotten her out of trouble.

She could remember a similar incident that happened when she was seventeen and Hanabi twelve. There had been a visitor then, the first suitor, as she knew now, among a long procession of suitors, a son of the Fire country's daimyo himself. She had been a nervous wreck, couldn't think of a word to say, how to act as a Hyuuga heiress should... all the things expected of her. The eating part had been easy, but when the discussions started, Hinata had wanted to run from the hall. The prince had been asking her a question about who to choose if she were forced in a situation where in she could only save either the Fire Country Daimyo or the Hokage.

Hinata had known she was going to stutter, she had known it! She hadn't done so since she was fourteen, but that night, she had known she would the moment she opened her mouth. But then she couldn't, even though she didn't know what answer he wanted to hear in the first place; Hanabi had hit a chakra point at her neck, and she merely gawked at the prince, unable to open her mouth. After a few moments of icy silence, the prince had nodded in what seemed like approval. Poor Hinata, however, had thereafter only been able to nod slowly and subtly when people talked to her, frozen with what had felt to her at the time as a constipated expression on her face.

Afterwards, Hinata had agonized all night and couldn't sleep at all. People would certainly talk about how stuck-up and stiff the Hyuuga heiress was. The clan would be dishonored and humiliated!

As it was, the gossip that had spread was that Hyuuga Hinata was very sophisticated and gorgeous, a learned young woman with both a fierce and womanly bearing, the perfect balance between lady and warrior. Hinata had stared stupidly when her father and the family elders lauded her the following days.

And so, Hinata survived the following three years of more courtly visits by following the formula Hanabi had unwittingly shown to her.

Presently, her sister was struggling with the long, ornate obi. Hinata did her best to stay as still as possible, since that was the only thing she could help with that didn't earn her a scathing gaze from Hanabi.

But as Hanabi firmly tightened the first piece of fabric around her waist, Hinata froze. The doors were suddenly flung open, revealing the displeased faces of three women.

The willowy one was Raina, and she looked as if she carried five typhoons on her furious glare. Aiko, the usual iridescence of her eyes rendered a flaming orange, was wearing a fixed expression of blankness, probably too angry to speak. Hisana, often too jolly and too chubby for a Hyuuga, was severe and looming.

"Hi-hisana-san," Hinata started placatingly. "Please let me explain."

"Oh you better, child!" thundered the short woman. "Three hours. We had been waiting three hours for you! Your water got cold, your kimono disappeared. All because you two decided to play hide and seek. I cannot believe this sort of irresponsible behavior, Hinata-sama. And you, Hanabi! I can't believe you're privy to this. I can't think of a"

"A reason, mistress?" came Hanabi's chilling voice. "A reason is that there are strangers under our roof, at a time when we all know of the danger stalking our future leader. If unpredictability would protect the Hyuuga heir, then so be it. When was she ever required to delineate her life to ease yours?"

Hinata could almost see the three women shrink at her sister's words.

Hisana nodded slowly, mollified. "But what were you planning to do with your hair, Hinata-sama?" Hinata sadly noted the more subdued tone of the woman who had practically raised her. They were all properly cowed now, after Hanabi rubbed her social status in their faces.

"I'm afraid that's the limit of our resourcefulness, Hisana-san," Hinata replied gently. "We were about to see you and Raina-san and Aiko-san."

Hisana nodded and Hinata felt relief flood her own body.

"Very well. Hanabi-sama, let me help you with that obi. And shouldn't you be heading to your own apartments? You are very good at cleaving skulls, dearest, but you can never center a simple french twist on your own. Off with you, child! Aiko will help you. Meanwhile, Hinata-sama, let's see what we can do with your hair tonightconsidering the time constraint you had so thoughtfully imposed upon us all. Mou! The wonders will never cease. How can a child as well-behaved as you manage to get into the worst pickles?"

And so, Hinata surrendered to the ministrations of her aunts, smiling in spite of herself.

* * *

Hyuuga Neji spent considerable amounts of time watching people. For one thing, his job entailed it; for another, it was an entertaining learning experience. There were so many facets in a single person. Humans were deceitful beings, he had learned over the years, though many did not mean to do actual harm because of their little lies (few people really did). In fact, most only intended to protect themselves from truths they could not face, truths that relate to their hidden hearts.

Being so observant and keen in deciphering the enigma of human beings, it would be logical to conclude that Neji could turn that same discerning eye on himself, could undergo the most soul-searching self-examination possible. Neji was honest enough to admitto himself at least—that it was not always the case. But he could cover the basics well enough and could state with absolutely no ego that he was what many ninjas considered exceptional and what many women considered handsome.

Not that he cared. Nonetheless, he knew too well the shortcuts the human minds tended to take, knew too well that people judged by appearance and presentation. His lofty looks gave him added points, further exalted him into an unreal paradigm that would glorify the name of Hyuuga even more. Thus, that night, he took care to dress well and made it a point to keep his manners, even now as he was assailed by this willowy tittering creature, haphazardly crumpled into several square miles of satin and silk.

"So you say, sir, that you are a ninja, as are all the gentlemen and ladies in this gathering?" the lady asked in her wondering breathy voice. "Then that means you have..." She gasped, covered her mouth with ringed fingers, and dropped her voice to a whisper. "That means you have killed before?"

"Yes, lady," Neji answered patiently, levelly. "At times, when necessity and expediency are in perfect balance, I have killed."

"Oh!" the girl cried, as if bodily hit. Her thin frame trembled in her purple dress, and being a size too small for it, generously exposed her only padded features. "Then, my lord, I should be wary!" And yet, she clung tightly to the arm of the reticent jounin, brown eyes helplessly wide and fluttering.

"I am no lord, Nerissa-dono. And don't worry. Killing in the middle of a banquet, lights blazing, isn't exactly expedient."

"Oh, but you will protect me, won't you, Neji-san? In case some wicked criminal comes charging in here, guns blazing?".

"Yes, my lady," he said, mentally counting to ten. "In case some wicked criminal has the balls to come skipping in here, I will kill him for you."

Mollified, she squeezed his arm zealously. "That puts me so much more at ease. And if I may say so, sir, you have the prettiest eyes I have ever seen." And very lady like, she pushed him away and hid her blushing face.

She couldn't be a spy, Neji decided firmly. Of course, she could just be extremely skilled. Even Tenten, a versatile kunoichi and a fair actress who had creatively gotten him and Lee out of the worse screw ups in undercover missions back in their genin days, could never act so brainless. All the same, Neji remained polite, for she was the ambassador's second-born daughter, cousin (thrice removed) to his Royal Highness Fuwa Amarillo, first born son of the ruler of Rock.

The prince was one handsome devil, Neji had to admit. Ironically, his eyebrows, the least beautiful of his features, were his most prominent ones, for they were bushy and somewhat vicious whenever a smile was absent from his finely-chiseled face. His eyes sparkled and danced around, black currants that soaked up the colors of the world. He had a restlessly curious mind, it seemed. He was too guileless, too forward to be an effective gatherer of sensitive information. His delivery was sometimes so gauche that the lady, his cousin, paused her relentless pursuit of Neji to apologize for his Highness' "intellectualism."

Amarillo's innocent-seeming inquisitions were answered quietly and succinctly. Most of the others in the dining hall were either conversing in murmurs or not at all. In fact, the liveliest chatters were of those of the visitors. The Hyuuga kept quiet, calmly waiting for the head of the clan to arrive.

Neji had observed in other houses that the tradition was for the guest of honor to arrive last, welcomed by some pompous display or another. Not so in Hyuuga. Hyuugas weren't fond of bowing. Most of the visitors were the supplicants and the clan made no pretense of otherwise. The Hyuuga heads waited for no one, not even for distant kings. They went to the dining table last, and only when they came was food served.

Actually, Neji was quite impressed by the Prince's cool bearing. Few men could long stand the silent white gaze of Hyuuga. He knew how fierce the effect was, the contrast of their light eyes against their dark hair. Even well-trained politicians fidgeted, while phlegmatic warriors sweated. The long silent wait for the evening meals had gained quite a notorious reputation, such that it was whispered about by the nobles among their ilk.

On uneventful nights, the dining hall was just a series of rooms partitioned by hand-painted silkscreens. The main family used one of the small rooms, while the other Hyuuga dined in their own households. Thus expanded, the hall could fit three hundren in a pinch. There were two entrances, one at each end of the hall. Naturally, one was solely for the use of the main family, and everybody else had to use the other one.

The "main" entrance was obviously a misnomer. One, it catered to only three people. Two, it was nothing near the splendor of the ornately carved "branch" entrance. The main entrance was a simple door of dark and heavy hard wood. It was flanked by two long tapered candles, graduated by the hours of the day. Even from a distance, Neji could easily see the approach of the twentieth hour.

Eight o'clock. From elsewhere, a clock chimed, reaching and echoing in the now silent hall. At once, the main door swung open. Out came the stern-faced head of the Hyuuga clan. He walked, as any other man walked, and he was clothed in a dark ceremonial kimono, as any other Hyuuga male was clothed. The subtle difference that set him apart was the vast dignity he carried, the lofty but comfortable strength with which his very shoulders seemed to carry the name of his house. Behind him came his daughter and heir.

Hinata-sama was dressed her part. The weight of the several layers of fabric on her could probably rival that of Rock Lee's weights around his legs. Her kimono was mainly a brocaded forest green, a perfect choice that was not acquiescing like white, was not so severe as black, was not jubilantly sanguine like crimson. The layered obi balanced the lushness of her robe with its variety of color and texture. The richness of color, however, somewhat bleached her, and for the exact five seconds she stood still at the doorway, half-shadowed by the dimly-lit antechamber, the Hyuuga heiress seemed terrifyingly supernatural.

Exactly sixty-three steps would bring her to the head of the table, where she and the prince would flank the Hyuuga head. It would take her exactly one minute to reach her seat, as she had been doing for years, including the pause she would take before her guest of honor and the serene bow of acknowledgment she would give him. Meanwhile, while everyone's attention was riveted by the petite woman with her simply knotted black hair, fine raiment, and exquisite carriage, the branch entrance would open to unobtrusively usher in the elders of the clan. Neji watched as the orchestrated ritual took place, watched as Hyuuga Hanatarou came and sat opposite the genius ninja, all dignified and serious. The ANBU member allowed his blank stare to burn the elder, before turning his attention back to the Hyuuga heiress.

Hinata was by now three feet away from Amarillo. She paused and ever so slightly tilted her head towards him. The prince graciously rose from his seat and bowed deeply, and as customary, she relented with the tiniest of smiles.

A few steps behind her was Hanabi. The young girl's strut was defiantly so unlike the poised and balanced bearing of the heiress. She was dressed as finely as her father and sister, but despite the diaphanous outer tunic of her knee-length dress, her attire was unmistakably battle-themed. A ceremonial tanto was at her hip and a jeweled kunai topped the elaborate plaiting of her hair. Neji watched her as she passed by, stared at the tight-fitting bodice of the low-back dress underneath the translucent silver outer robe that bore the clan's insignia. Hanabi may be of the main family now, but once her sister took power, the prodigious girl would also bear the same curse mark he did in his forehead. Everything they did reminded of the fact: they lived for the main family, for the clan of Hyuuga.

The second-born reached her patiently waiting sister. Hanabi assister her elder as she sat, held up the flowing sleeves that trailed and pooled around Hinata-sama's feet. Hanabi knew her fate, of course, as surely as he did, and yet her every single movement was suffused with deep-seated pride. An unmistakably arrogant smirk briefly played on her lips as she walked back to her place and took her seat beside him. Neji followed her gazed and saw the chagrined expression of three genins, the ninja escort of the prince.

"Brat, don't throw stones at beehives," he murmured without turning to face her.

"Che," she muttered back. "Why would I waste my time, niisan?"

And yet her taunting look lingered. The three Cloud nins were of her age and apparently had quite a reputation in their own village. Hanabi was obviously itching to test them, but she was probably out of luck. The foreigners' jounin-sensei momentarily lost his laid-back coolness as he glowered warily at his three students. Shamefaced, the three went back to staring at their platesor anywhere that didn't return smug white stares.

And so the meal started.

After the main course came, Hiashi-sama broke the silence by introducing his guests. Neji didn't need to hear the exchange of ass-kissing between the clan elders and the Rock's party. Instead, he unabashedly watched Hyuuga Hanatarou converse lightly with the Cloud jounin, a sinewy young man of about twenty-five, whose name was aptly Shinoda Iga. Neji had heard of this ninja with his mouse-brown hair and oddly blue eyes. He was called Slippery Iga, a man known to have escaped from several torture chambers of the various feuding clans in Kumigakure no Sato.

Meanwhile, the Prince Amarillo kept his attention on Hinata-sama, presenting himself properly like a gentleman. He was appropriately rapt with the Hyuuga heir and her quiet conversation, but the touch of weariness at the corner of his dark eyes hinted his wish to be somewhere else. Perhaps, writing in his chamber? The only crude feature of the pampered royal was the callus on his right middle finger.

Hinata was softly describing one of her favorite picnic spots in Fire country, a three-hundred feet waterfall in the south. The prince seemed genuinely interested; his eyes were dancing again, after being subdued by the solemn start of the dinner. Hiashi-sama noted this too and suggested that her daughter bring her visitors to this remarkable place.

Neji listened to the ensuing discussion. Whether he liked it or not, _he_ was going to be tagging along to this little excursion. But then Hinata had paled slightly, such that perhaps only he was able to notice. Her lips went taut momentarily as if a dozen different words were springing to mind, as if she were locked in an inner battle. Finally, she spoke firmly.

"I am sorry, father, for I have a previously arranged engagement for tomorrow."

"Ah?" Hiashi-sama turned his expressionless face to her. "Is that so, daughter? There are twenty four hours in tomorrow, more than a thousand minutes, if you wish to count time so concisely."

"The trip to and from the glen I spoke of would take at least a day and a half in a leisurely p-pace." Her voice wavered slightly, a tiny ripple in her unperturbed exterior. "I-I would not want to rush his Highness and insist on going tomorrow at the pace we ninjas are accustomed to."

The Hyuuga head paused, taking a breath slightly deeper than his other breaths. "Can you not delay this engagement of yours?"

Hinata swallowed visibly. "I cannot, father. Its terms are not mine to decide, nor mine to alter."

Neji waited for the following eruption. Hinata must be waiting, too, must be shaking in her dainty little geta. And yet, she kept her gaze on her father, her shoulders straight, her hands clasped under the table, out of sight. Hiashi returned her gaze, equally unreadable. Meanwhile the Prince of Rock sat beside the suddenly silent father and daughter, licking his lips nervously once in a while, trying not to look at either one. Neji himself would not wish to be seated in his place.

But Neji never found out what Hiashi-sama was going to reply. Hyuuga Hanatarou was delicately clearing his throat and had broken the hair-thin tension gripping the surrounding atmosphere..

"If I may humbly point out, Hiashi-sama, Hinata-sama," he said in a sickeningly servile tone. "Shouldn't we ask his Highness himself? I believe he has engagements, too."

Amarillo bowed to Hinata in apology. "Indeed, lady," he said. "I have an audience with your highly esteemable Godaime Hokage. If Hinata-sama of the Hyuuga clan is such a wonder to behold as she is, what more of the woman said to be the fairest in the world? I must see Tsunada-hime with my own eyes. I hope I do not trouble you, as I am obliged to request a later date for this adventure. The day after tomorrow, perhaps?"

"Very well," Hiashi answered. "Does that suit you, daughter?"

"Y-yes, father." She bowed back to Amarillo, now smiling more freely. "It would be an honor, Highness, to show you the breathtaking natural splendors of my homeland."

Hyuuga Hanatarou seemed very please with himself, so when the triumphant little glint in the elder's eyes disappeared, Neji thought it enjoyable. A staring Neji had that effect, see.

Meanwhile, dessert was served. After another hour, the prince begged off to retreat to his room, alluding to a headache and fatigue from the long journey.

Oh, and Neji enjoyed seeing that, too.

022205 midnight ish.

* * *

Waaah! Hanabi does sound like Shikamaru. I'm sorry! kowtows I don't know how to fix it. Xx (maybe it's just me. Oo)

Names. Picking names is such a hassle. I don't think I ever mentioned this, but I borrowed the name of Yamada Hanatarou of Bleach. Poor guy.

Thanks to Midnightcrow for looking this over.

More notes (briefly): Neptune, I hope you do; you won't believe how happy I am the fic interests you. NuttyScribbler, forgive me for that cliffhanger, lol, and thanks for reading the parody of chapter 3. (That goes to you, too, Miko-chan). Scented candles, I won't abandon this fic (on the pain of violent gruesome death). Everybody, thanks for reading. And an added thanks for everybody who commented, too (myself being one of those not diligent in leaving comments. Aiya.)

Till next update. 

As usual, comments, constructive critisicism, complaints, etc., are all very welcome. 


	6. Chapter 5: Of the Essence

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, etc. Borrowing for the purposes of entertainment, procrastination, and basically, escapism.

**Chapter 5: Of the Essence**

"A birthday party? This was your pressing and unalterable engagement!"

Hanabi was considered by many a genius, by most simply the caliber of ninja expected from the clan of Hyuuga. Being a precocious child, she had a tendency to slack off—only very slightly, she would point out—just because her haphazard level of functioning was more than sufficient to earn her praises from her elders and teachers. Neji knew how it was, having grown up as someone lauded as the Hyuuga genius. He couldn't, however, fathom why his younger cousin didn't figure out their destination tonight in advance.

"I realize we're both here in the protective and subordinate capacity, but couldn't you have been your polite and considerate self and told us we're going to some loud-mouth's birthday party? What am I supposed to do there? Gawk?"

"Or uncover washed off blood stains," Neji spoke up. "It's good practice."

"I wouldn't need the Byakugan for that," scoffed Hanabi. "Why else is this whole sector dark?"

"Saves electricity." That was simple enough, it seemed to Neji, and his answer was perfectly honest.

"Nah. He's just one of those people who has an affinity with darkness." She thumbed her silent sister. "Like this one over here."

"Weird, you mean?" clarified Neji.

"Weird, yes."

"You two..." protested Hinata. "That's not a nice thing to say about Sasuke-san."

"I just wanted you to realize that I'm displeased, oneesama. Although, it would have worked better if _you_ had taken offense, which you wouldn't have because you're annoying that way."

Hanabi was usually not talkative.

"Does father know about this? That you begged off the prince's excursion for a stupid party?"

"Yes," replied Hinata simply.

Hanabi made a disgusted noise.

"Father is not unreasonable, Hanabi."

Neji snorted softly. Indeed, the Hyuuga head wasn't unreasonable, but he was certainly hard to reason with at times. Last night was moderately stormy. It was not surprising Hinata-sama was reticent about her conversation alone with her father after the dinner.

"Neji-niisan knew, too."

Hanabi shot him an accusatory glare.

"I was invited," he said.

"So I'm a gate-crasher? Excellent. Things can't get any better than this."

"No, Hanabi-chan," replied her sister. "You're here in the protective and subordinate capacity. When I say smile, you smile."

"'Dance,' and you dance," added Neji.

"Now, that's even better, niisan. But I'm sure she'd rather sing."

Hanabi began to recite oaths under her breath earnestly.

As Hinata-sama began chuckling quietly, Neji allowed an amused smile to grace his face. The exchange proved two things. One, the Hyuuga heiress could handle bullying, and two, the Hyuuga genius could handle bantering.

* * *

Fifteen years ago, this house was silenced. For an hour, death walked its streets and filled it with a cacophony of squeals, grunts, screams, and wails. It hung in the air till the air was too thick of it, and it was forced to seep unto the very stones that made up the buildings' foundation, the aged wood that made up the walls, the very soil of the earth imbibing the thick richness of human blood, that lavish sacrifice for power. In its secret silences, the compound still reverberated with the echoes of the past. In the densest shadows, the scenes still played out. 

But mostly, there was only the quietness.

Of course, he had vowed to fill the empty halls with its old chatter and laughter, its arguments and tearful encounters, its cycle of life and death. But through the years, he had eased into an acceptance of sorts—perhaps, the sun was truly meant to set on the clan that day. Nature would pull down these empty houses and reclaim this ground. Time would devour this faded smear on this village's surface. He would be the last Uchiha.

But those thoughts came in his more melodramatic moments. That evening, his home was shaking with music and conversation. His tables overflowed with food. Light touched corners that have forgotten about it. Footsteps had running feet with them. Shadows had moving bodies to follow.

_The dead are turning._

A celebration of life.

_The dead._

And the dead must be turning in their graves. Hear how they knocked? How they clawed their cold tombs and protested the sacrilege taking place?

Stupid. That was just the front door.

Sasuke stood up, leaving the shadowed sanctuary he retained for himself near the entrance. Perhaps, it was fitting he volunteered as the doorkeeper, never mind that he only did so to escape the din inside. It was his house after all, and the guests might not believe it if another ushered them in. They might think Naruto was playing a trick on them—or on him. Naruto was rightfully entertaining his guest, and Sakura was with him. Sasuke was no good at hosting, obviously, so he left that to them.

He opened the tall thick doors and was met with three pairs of glittering pale eyes.

Neji, of course, he knew. He nodded in greeting. The youngest, with a half-snarl hidden on her pained smile, was Hanabi, whom he had narrowly defeated two out of three matches in the past jounin exam. Politely, he nodded to her as well. The third person was Hinata, the heiress of the Hyuuga clan.

She wasn't particularly remarkable to look at: dark hair twisted around her head, the usual ankle-length no-nonsense dress most village women wore. To his surprise, she did not avert her gaze when he greeted her—wasn't she notorious for ducking her head and fiddling with her fingers when people spoke to her? Perhaps, that memory was outdated.

Yes, he remembered Sakura's stories: Naruto's influence reached the oddest nooks and crannies.

"Begging your pardon," Hinata said. He must have spoken aloud the dobe's name. "I didn't catch what you said, Sasuke-san."

Sasuke-san. Girls always called him Sasuke-kun. Always.

"We are at the right place, aren't we?" spoke up the sinewy teenager with her arms akimbo. "Oneesama wasn't hallucinating, right?"

"Aa," Sasuke finally said. "Down this corridor. Then left. You'll hear them."

"Thank you," Hinata said in her quiet voice.

The three noiselessly ventured down the better illuminated hallway. He watched them, not really surprised that they seemed to blend well with the starkness of the place. Somehow they did not look out of place or uncomfortable, unlike most of the other guests.

Perhaps, that was a good thing? One of them, after all, was the girl they wanted him to marry.

The irritation for it all, that they had the gall to give him a particular name... It didn't matter to him. At least, she wasn't annoying. Maybe this house would spare her. Maybe it would mistake her for one of its own, an element of the dark. Maybe she'll continue the line, bear decent sons that would eventually bear the one that would rejuvenate the clan. Restoring the clan to its old glory and reputation...that was already too much to ask of _him_, wasn't it?

Maybe tomorrow he'd actually care. For now, Sasuke went back to his post, musing

* * *

It was not the first time Neji had entered Sasuke's home. He had done so several times before as a part of his duties as a member of ANBU and once as a self-assigned keeper of four loud drunks who saw fit to lay siege on their reticent comrade's shadowed "fortress." Sasuke did not take it in kind then, but surprisingly did not carry out his muttered threats that detailed creative means of demise . 

The Uchiha home was quite homey, Neji admitted, after passing through the undecorated hall that lead to a large room that seemed designed for receiving guests. Of course, the room was dotted with other early comers, music softened the chatter and laughter, and lights were bright enough to actually see the faces of ones companions. It seemed a modern enough living room with couches, tables, a pricey entertainment system that was apparently fairly new with some wrapping still sticking out one corner. Whoever organized the party made good use of the space and the moderately fancy stereo system that blithely blared out popular songs and the usual evening shows from the only FM radio station in Konoha.

Meanwhile, Hanabi looked like she was entering the lair of an S-class criminal.

"Oi, oi, Neji!" crowed a voice suddenly. "And Hinata-chan! You came just in time. The ramen's just about done."

Naruto came from one of the adjoining room, perhaps the kitchen, judging from the smell that accompanied the opening of the door. Over civilian clothing, he was wearing an apron, which had a half-singed symbol of the Uchiha clan embroidered in front. Neji raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.

"Ahahaha..." Naruto said, rather self-consciously. "Don't worry. Even I can't burn boiling water."

"Ramen," muttered Hanabi. "Of course."

"Happy birthday, Naruto-kun," Hinata greeted him solemnly, handing him a package wrapped in bright patterned paper. Neji added his greetings, as did Hanabi after being nudged by her elders.

"Thanks, Hinata-chan, Neji," answered Naruto wiping sweat from his brows with a sleeve. "Oh hello, Hanabi, didn't expect you here. I thought you said you're running off to become a hermit at Mount Makiling?"

Hanabi sniffed. "I recall saying I would _if_ you beat me. You won due to technicalities. I never succumbed."

The blond nodded. "That makes sense." Then he grinned. "So when I do beat you, you'll leave Konoha?"

"Oi, oneesama," Hanabi remarked to her sister. "Why doesn't his optimism rub off on you even a little?"

"That's okay, kid. I bet you'll kick ass in the next jounin exam."

"Oh, I thought I did pretty well in this one in that aspect."

"Like in your third fight with Sasuke?"

Neji waited for his cousin's answer in interest. While he wasn't there to witness the said fight, he had heard about it from others. Apparently, there had been much controversy over the arbiter's ruling. There had been much debate whether or not Uchiha Sasuke was rightfully advanced to jounin level.

"That was a fair call." Hanabi glared at her feet. "My mistake was in underestimating his will."

Naruto suddenly sighed in relief. "Oh, good. I thought you were---"

"Where's the food?" Hanabi interrupted him.

"Aren't you going to wait for the ramen?" The blue-eyed celebrant was wearing an interesting expression on his face. Puppy dog eyes, was it?

"It can wait for me," the girl retorted."I'm only here for the food, after all."

Naruto meekly gestured to buffet table set up at the opposite end of the room, and the girl sauntered off.

"Excuse my sister, Naruto-kun," Hinata said earnestly. "She's somewhat upset over... um, over issues back home."

"That's okay." Naruto shrugged. "She's not the type who likes failing. I can relate to that."

Failure or not, Hanabi gauged herself with unforgiving precision. Neji had known beforehand that Hanabi might not make it this year, and certainly Hanabi suspected it herself. The jounin exam wasn't solely a test of ninja skills, or even of leadership. There was something destroyed—or, at least, bound—in a ninja's soul before that ninja could be called elite. Perhaps, Hanabi had yet to discover what she had to lose, not necessarily what she had to gain.

"How've you been, Neji?" Naruto was speaking. "It's been a while, huh? Heard about that incident in the west Spring country."

"Not as bad as it sounds," said Neji with a shrug. "It's all over the news even here?"

"Are you kidding me? All the girls are going nuts over that Supa Flying Adonis guy. What possessed you to–"

"I was not possessed; I was undercover. The cover up was adequate, as usual. Lame, but functional."

"Yes, but wearing purple tights and golden capes? That's the most fu–"

"Better than what the Spring country government announced to cover up your operation two years ago," Neji countered, not wanting to relive that undignified covert-op that went to hell. If Naruto wanted to chat about it, he should seek out the brains—or the lack thereof—behind the operation, Maito Gai and Rock Lee.

"Oh yeah, that was, uh... nasty."

"NARUTO!" came a harried voice.

Neji did as the others did and looked towards the kitchen. A pink-topped head was poking through, obviously desperate for assistance.

"For crying out loud, the noodles are still BURNING!"

"Uh-ah!" Naruto twitched guiltily. "I'll be right there," he called out before hastily turning back to his guests. "Ah, Neji, some of the guys are out back. Hinata-chan, too, if you want to hang out with them for a while. Many people'll probably be late what with missions and all that, though Tsunade-obaachan tried her best."

"That's fine, Naruto-kun," answered Hinata, briskly following as the blond jogged to the kitchen.

"The backdoor's through here," continued Naruto as he yanked open the kitchen door. He stopped to cough when billowing smoke readily engulfed him, but he continued to speak as they braved that gray world of the Uchiha kitchen. "It's not exactly a backyard, out back. It's sort of like a central place thing where all the old Uchiha families did their thing. There are other empty buildings around it, so I guess it's like everybody's backyard."

"...Oh, yes," Hinata piped up shortly, following a series of sneezes. "I understand why."

"It's not that bad with all the party lights. But you never know, right?"

"Ghosts, you mean?"

"Or Sasuke's secret experiments." Naruto sounded and looked very serious, even as Neji watched him open the back door to let the smoke out. "You never know what the guy's up to."

"That's not–"

"Very nice," Naruto completed her sentence, his grin now visible to everybody else. "It's just me being an ass. The ingratitude."

Haruno Sakura was leaning against the counter, looking relieved. Apparently, she had just been victorious in a battle against the old-style stone oven of the Uchiha kitchen. Sweat dripped from her forehead as she watched the last traces of smoke dance their way to freedom out the open windows and out the backdoor left ajar.

"Crisis managed," she announced cheerfully. "It wasn't the noodles after all, Naruto." She went to the stove and turned off the fire under the boiling pot.

The kitchen was in shambles. It was most likely not how Uchiha Sasuke kept his house, decided Neji, since most of the stains spattered on the walls and the floor still dripped.

"Like I said," repeated Naruto. "The ingratitude. Sakura-chan, should I start boiling the next batch of noodles?"

"Naruto," the young woman replied patiently as she poured out the water from the steaming caldron and strained the noodles. "Go out and barbeque. I'll manage here."

"I er... got distracted."

"I already said it wasn't the noodles." Sakura waved him away. "Don't worry about it, sheesh."

"But I have to. Sasuke would kill me. I mean look at this place."

"Ah, the scorched wall?" Sakura paled slightly. "Um, don't worry about that. Hello, Hinata-san, Neji-san."

"Oh, Sakura-san, can I help you with anything?" Hinata readily offered.

Sakura beamed at her gratefully. "Like I said, don't worry about me. I'm not as hectically busy as I look. Why don't you go out with Naruto and see the others out there? I think they're trying to set up the karaoke. Or will be anyway. It's not that cold out tonight."

"I'll help you then, Naruto-kun," said Hinata.

"Well, okay. Sakura-chan, ask Sasuke to help you, 'kay?"

"Ah-!" Sakura turned away to rummage through the bags set aside at one corner of the room. "Uh.. Yeah, I'll ask. I'll... uh, ask him."

And so Naruto gathered his stack of skewered meat, a gas lamp, and a kabuki fan that has—

Come.

Come like you've never come before.

Come see:

Come, Come, Paradise!

—splashed across it when opened. Sakura was reaching for a sack of coals, so Neji took that from her and impassively followed the other two out.

It was as Naruto had casually described earlier. The grassy clearing was a backyard of sorts, of perhaps several of the individual households of Uchiha branches when they still existed. In a tight bustling village such as theirs, extra space was a luxury. The jut of land offered protected privacy, and in that respect, was similar to the garden in the middle of the Hyuuga main house, which Neji had seen once but was never interested in seeing again.

A few older ninjas filled the long wooden table standing haphazardly a ways from the back door. They were starting with alcohol there, and they raised their glasses boorishly as Naruto passed. They called out greetings to Neji as well, and he returned them, nodding to their invitations in acknowledgment, not in promise.

Naruto came upon a lighted little spot that used to be the dirty kitchen, where the house help must have worked long ago. There, instead of some shiny new appliance Neji thought they might find, an aged ash-dusted kiln squatted on top of the undressed concrete counter, half-shadowed. Neji wordlessly piled coal on top of the grill as Naruto and Hinata prepared their materials. He moved aside as Naruto started the fire and waited for the coal to smolder, all the while chatting with Hinata. Neji offered a word or so here and there but otherwise watched silently as more people came to mill about the background, some of whom he knew personally, many he knew by face or reputation or name alone, most interrupting Naruto's little stories to Hinata-sama with greetings.

An arm suddenly shot out from the shadows and clamped his cousin roughly in a head lock.

"Kiba-kun!" Hinata protested.

"Hinata-chan is in a dress, hee hee!" Kiba teased. "Why didn't you wear that thing my sister gave you last year? Naruto'd drool, stupid as he is."

"Hey! It's my birthday, dammit. Don't call me stupid!"

"K-kiba-kun! Don't say such nonsense."

"Why? He won't get it even if I hit him over the head with it," the heiress's attacker bared his canines in an evil grin.

"Get what?" demanded Naruto.

Meanwhile, a great white dog came bounding up, foiling Hinata's attempts to disentangle herself from Izunuka Kiba's playful hold. Hinata-sama could only squeak as Akamaru laid down his own greeting.

"Happy birthday, Naruto," came Shino's solemn greeting amidst the barking and protesting.

"Thank you," replied Naruto equally serious.

Things calmed down and the old team eight hovered about as Naruto continued cooking. Hinata-sama was obviously happy being with her old genin cellmates, noted Neji, but the slight quivering of her almost ever-present smile said something. There were traces of suppressed thoughts threatening to grab her attention from the usual catching up conversation. She couldn't help it that Kiba's presence reminded her of less pleasant things, but the trouble hinted in her eyes stemmed elsewhere. Anger, considered Neji thoughtfully. Hinata-sama was uncomfortable with anger, especially anger directed perhaps at her father.

"Hey, you wouldn't mind, would you Neji?" Naruto suddenly said to him. "I left the sauce inside."

"...Aa."

Neji left Hinata-sama giggling at Akamaru's new trick.

* * *

Most of the conversations he remembered between himself and his family took place in the kitchen, though ironically, it was the plainest room in the house and he had always only gone there to eat. The breakfast nook was practically swallowed by the designated kitchen space, and the heavy wooden table, scarred by years of use, was more often than not used for preparing food instead of for eating. But breakfast time he remembered relatively well, for it was often the time all four members of the family were usually together. 

His mother was a neat, orderly woman, was perfect in every aspect to his seven-year-old eyes. The kitchen she kept was spotless, even when there was a feast to be prepared and people ran around the premises chaotically. It was only afterwards Sasuke realized they used the "dirty kitchen" outside for the messier jobs like butchering meat, cleaning fish, mixing sauces, frying and roasting. Living alone, he never had to use the "dirty kitchen" for the immaculate steamed rice he subsisted on or the little things he learned to steam or broil as years passed.

He had never seen his kitchen like this.

She had been rushing around when he came in, struggling to sort the general mess into something she could work with: food to the breakfast table, dirty plates and utensils to the sink, and trash into the giant black plastic bag slouching against an open cupboard door. She didn't notice him as she washed her hands after disposing of the little clear bags containing blood, water, and marinade. Reaching for a bowl of leftover bean paste, she accidentally gripped the container where the viscous fluid dripped. The spill on the table she wiped off with a towel, but the sticky sweet sauce in her hand she licked away with relish. And then, she was just standing there with her back to him, giving the farther wall the most vigorous scrubbing it has had in fourteen years.

Somehow, it was ugly. That plain, soiled apron she wore; those stray strands of pink sprinkled about her sweaty, flushed face; the stuffy warmth of the room; the stained walls… He hated them all with a fierceness that sickened him. How servile, weak, and ravaged she looked---and in his house of all places!

What the hell was she doing anyway?

What the hell was she doing _there_?

She didn't startle, but she probably noticed his presence by the killing intent he practically exuded.

"Um," she started.

"There are more people outside."

"Oh. We would both be needed out there, then." She turned back to the wall. "Just a sec. I'm almost done with this glob here. If it hardens, it'll be harder to—"

"Clean later." The sponge was now in his hand, not hers. Vaguely, it occurred to him that he probably shouldn't be so forceful and curt to a woman who could snap his spine with a simple snap of her fingers. Sakura was highly tensed nowadays, despite her ready smile and her serene façade, and it probably wasn't a good idea to irritate her.

"I'll help you," he added.

"Ah," she said, staring at the sponge he held. "I'm sorry about the wall. I'll pay for the repair."

"The people are waiting outside."

"You're not planning to hide in here, are you?" she countered, her green eyes on him now, unabashed and suspicious. She had grabbed a part of the sponge, undeterred by his grip, that hardheaded woman.

"No," he answered.

"Then let go."

He didn't.

"Then let go," she repeated.

Sasuke suddenly looked toward the backdoor. Hyuuga Neji was standing there, waiting.

"Sauce," he said, when Sakura looked to his direction as well.

She let go of the sponge and pointed at a jar sitting on the table. There was a certain stiffness to how she held her neck and gestured that hinted of embarrassment. They probably did look juvenile to the Hyuuga genius, playing their little tug-of-war game with that sallow smelly thing, but Sasuke cared little enough. "Thanks for helping us out," Sakura was saying to Neji. "It'll probably time to eat soon, if you don't mind passing that along to the other people outside. Please tell Naruto to take his time. Sasuke-kun and I will be inside to oversee things."

Neji nodded and left with the sauce. Sakura washed her hands again, then glided out the kitchen without another word. Sasuke was left standing there, grimy water trickling down his arm to drip onto the floor.

* * *

To say that Naruto was happy would be an understatement. He was practically bubbling with energy, seeing the gathering there to celebrate his birthday---_his_ birthday. It certainly was hard to imagine the time when the only person who even greeted a lonely little boy was the Sandaime Hokage. Of course, Konoha nins usually liked parties. Free food, a valid excuse to get together without the secrecy or urgency of day-to-day shinobi affairs… who wouldn't? Even Sasuke was visible, which Naruto thought remarkable, since the former would rather lurk in a hole somewhere than suffer crowds unnecessarily. It really was too bad Kakashi wasn't around. Tsunade-obaachan, too, was going to be late since she had some visitors from overseas. 

The young man busied himself flitting from one cluster of people to the next. All of these people… they were all his friends! Amazing, he kept repeating to himself, even as he urged Iruka-sensei to eat another bowl of ramen, or joked with that often serious-faced ANBU captain to untwist his panties first before sitting down and eating ramen (to which the captain congenially replied an offer to skewer the birthday boy's butt with used yakitori sticks.) Ramen, ramen, you keep on saying, complained Anko-san, who regretted overlooking the now empty beef teriyaki bowl. Of course, he couldn't help boasting about the ramen he made. He was Naruto, wasn't he?

Suddenly, he came upon a knot of three or four people surrounding a young woman. Her pale eyes were downcast (not obviously so, but he knew they were) and her gentle face was strained with a suppressed something.

"Blood-shanks," Shino was saying, as he adjusted the collar of the trench coat he still wore over his jounin attire. "I fought him once a year ago."

"Oh yeah," the younger man beside him said. "I heard about that Bloodshanks guy from our sensei. He sounded evil. Sort of."

At seventeen, Konohamaru was a chuunin. He had just arrived straight from a B-class mission in a small swampy country just this evening. He still wore his uniform and many guests were giving him the same wide berth they gave the man who reportedly had insects in his clothes. Like Naruto, Konohamaru was still somewhat of a mischief-maker.

"But that was the day sensei fell off a barn roof after eating a drugged turnip, a long time ago," Konohamaru continued. "He could be laying it thick on that flesh-eating technique he swore Bloodshanks stole from his family just to scare us genins. I mean seeing Sexy no Jutsu (Konohamaru's Better Version) #63 probably gave him more pain than that broken hip."

"Blood-shanks was an elite medic who ruthlessly killed and stole jutsu from cadavers, even before he defected from his village," reported Kohohamaru's buddy and teammate, Udon. "He's being hunted by several hidden villages for killing off their body cleaners, their Undertaker Squads."

"Wow, Hinata-nee. You actually fought off that dude and his buddies by yourself."

"I agree," Shino said quietly when Hinata didn't answer. "I think your team held well, considering the circumstances."

"But it's still not clear," said Udon. "Why would missing nins of that caliber get involve with a minor princess---politcal prisoner, yes, but still a minor character in Mist politics. I mean, it's not the type of mission Blood-shanks or that Naga Yuuhi guy had previously been recorded to get involved in."

"Yeah," agreed Konohamaru. "Did you get to read the report on Hinata-nee's mission? You're going to be a student of that special ANBU dude who studies those things right?"

The boy sneezed than shook his head. "Nope. It's one of those classified files. But if you don't mind, Hinata-neechan…" He looked at the Hyuuga heiress shyly.

"She minds," spoke up Naruto and Shino in unison.

"The details of the mission shouldn't concern you," added Shino. "It's a political situation and you should know by now how sensitive those information are."

"Oh, yes," the boy said, abashed. "Sorry, Hinata-nee."

"Great. Let's talk about something else," said Naruto. "How about my birthday mission? Can you believe Tsunade-obaachan gave me a mission today?"

"Not cool, Naruto-bro." Konohamaru slapped him in the back "But I'll humor you just this once and ask how your boring mission to the Fire country capital went."

"Konohamaru!" interrupted a voice, before Naruto could start. "They're starting the karaoke contest. Didn't you promise me a song?"

"Of course, I did!" With a hasty wave, the young man went off to his Kaede-chan.

Hinata smiled as Naruto shook his head at his "loyal follower's" abandonment. "Would you sing, too, Naruto-kun?" she asked.

"If you beg hard enough and I feel sorry for you guys, maybe I will," quipped Naruto with a snigger.

"I think she merely wanted to know what time we should leave," clarified Shino.

"Very funny, bug boy."

"I say we can go home now," declared a voice icily. "I'm finished with what I came for."

Naruto turned to see Hanabi walking towards them, followed by a talking Kiba.

"…good way to expand your horizons," the fanged jounin was saying. "You should come with Akamaru and me when we run around the village for our morning exercise. My best friend, you know? He's quite ferocious, but he'll share with a chick like you. Breakfast, techniques, seeds of wisdom from an elite ninja like me, and most importantly, territory. It'll be cool."

"You're talking about defiling the environment with your excrement while behaving conspicuously foolish," stated the genius girl.

Kiba laughed appreciatively. "Cool, so Hinata-chan's told you about that?"

"She most certainly did. Come closer and I'll tell you what else she said."

Kiba licked his lips nervously, ran a hand through his dark, shaggy hair, and stepped closer. Come to think of it, Naruto realized Kiba had been following Hanabi too closely, almost like he wanted her to smell something…

WHAM

Kiba was doubled over, recovering from Hanabi's punch. "What was that for?" he gasped.

"Pheromones. I detest that stench." With that, the girl stomped off.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Kiba called out after her. "Next time, I'll use the odorless kind. Hey!"

"Pheromones?" Hinata repeated.

"What's that?" asked Naruto. "Is that some sort of funky cologne?"

"You're disgusting," said Shino.

But Kiba wasn't listening to any of them, deliriously happy. "Dude," he babbled. "She likes me."

"I thought she almost disemboweled you with her fist," pointed out his old teammate.

"Exactly. She used Iron fist instead of Gentle-fist style. I must be special to her, too, right?"

"Aa." Shino adjusted his shades and said nothing more.

"Right, Naruto?"

Naruto gave him a puzzled look. "What's he asking?" he asked Hinata instead. "I don't get them."

Hinata merely shrugged, then burst out laughing.

"Ah," Naruto said plaintively. "Never mind."

Hinata smiled at him sympathetically. "Cookie?"

"Essence of Sasuke," Naruto muttered, shuddering as he took the golden brown pastry she handed him.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." And he popped the cookie into his mouth.

* * *

"Glorious! These are glorious!" 

Neji leaned against the wall and waited for his old genin cellmate to finish. Judging from the sparkle in the lanky man's dark eyes and the tears openly running down his cheeks, the enthusiastic appraisal was going to take time to finish. The Hyuuga changed his mind and sat instead.

"Never had I the honor---or the pleasure!---of taking such a glorious thing into my unworthy mouth. It's heaven! At first bite, there is the crunchiness of the gold-spun butter and diamond sugar coating. Then my teeth sink upon the softness of the inside. Oh, how it reminds me of youth! The texture is pleasant to the tongue. The balance of taste is gentle on the palate. Ah, what motherly love! Oh, such queenly presentation!"

"Now, Lee, don't hurt yourself," Tenten said. "Remember when Gai-sensei fainted after eating those legendary psychedelic pink mushrooms from The Country of Lakes? He was praising it and chewing it and crying all at the same timethat he got short of breath."

"They _were_ psychedelic," pointed out Neji. "That's why the breathing center in his brain, among other things, was affected."

Tenten frowned. "But I ate some. Everybody was fine afterwards."

"That's why you thought everybody was fine."

"Oh."

"But they were excellent mushrooms!" argued Lee. "Why must I hold back in lauding them? Or these glorious things? Or the woman I admire the most!"

"Uchiha Sasuke made those cookies.

Lee hesitated. "Sasuke?"

"Yes."

"Not Sakura-chan?"

"No."

"Well, that's no reason to hold back on praise." Lee insisted. "There is no reason a man cannot have such blessed hands."

"Blessed hands?" echoed Tenten, half-amused, half-exasperated. "They're only cookies, Lee. It's not like Sasuke needed to reach nirvana to make them."

"Shame on you my, beloved friend!" He leveled a chiding expression at the auburn-haired woman. "Expert in weapons, I expected from you more respect for the lowly labor of hands. He is a great ninja, but Uchiha Sasuke has bowled me over by the love he must have showered his craft. Truly such a man is a worthy rival."

"Still a walking hyperbole," muttered Tenten. "And I expected what?"

"Didn't you know Sasuke's my rival, too?" asked Lee, only catching the tail end of her murmurings. "Ever since I set eyes on Sakura-chan."

"Oh, that." Tenten sighed. "Don't you think you should start picking rivals who actually care?"

"But it's mandated by the heavens, Tenten-chan. Look at Gai-sensei and Kakashi-san. Look at how their eternal rivalry has kept them in their youthful toes all these years."

Tenten looked at him kindly. "It gets unhealthy."

Neji wasn't paying full attention to their conversation, but he thought Tenten's point valid. These odd little unrequited obsession (which he never could truly relate to) could get out of hand. The mention of Uchiha Sasuke, however, set him thinking again.

He had seen Sasuke when the latter opened the door for him and his cousins earlier this evening. Sasuke had studied Hinata-sama. His manner was offhand, disinterested even, and unalarming, Neji thought, but his particular interest in her confirmed Hanatarou's claim yesterday that he was on his way to talk to the Uchiha. Whether or not Sasuke liked what he saw in the Hyuuga heiress, Neji saw no indication.

But now...

Neji looked across the room where Sakura sat chatting with the blond girl, Ino. Sakura had been stealing glances at her old team mate all evening, her expression shot with worry. There was a moment when a helpless shrug belied her baffled unhappiness, but then she smiled and dismissed her companion's concerned inquiry. Neji was not familiar with the usual dynamics between Sasuke and Sakura—nor did he care—but perhaps her behavior was suggestive of some sort of change in Sasuke.

Sasuke himself did not bother to steal his glances. He steadily looking at the direction of his female team mate as he sat silently beside a boisterously laughing Naruto. Always, he slowly turned away just before she looked at his direction, as if it were some orchestrated cycle on he knew about in advance..

Neji didn't like it.

"Rivalry isn't unhealthy, Tenten," Lee was saying. "I like to liken it to youthful love, actually. Look at Neji. He is my rival, but you know that he is also my beloved and highly esteemed comrade."

"Don't even try," warned the beloved comrade as Lee impulsively moved to embrace him.

Tenten merely laughed, shaking her head ruefully. "I've missed you, Lee," she said.

"I've missed you, too, Tenten-chan!" he declared passionately.

But like Neji, Tenten declined Lee's bear hug offer.

Elsewhere in the room, a voice was escalating, speedily rising in heat. Apparently, another team reunion was underway.

"You don't have to yell, Ino," said an extremely bored looking man.

Nara Shikamaru was slouched on the floor, leaning against the wall and chewing on an empty stick that formerly held yakitori. Yamanaka Ino was standing over him, arms akimbo.

"I'm not deaf." He tugged at an ear ruefully. "Yet."

"I'm not yelling," she said. "I'm just stressing a point. Jeeze!"

"Which one?"

Ino folded her arms across her chest angrily."I'm starting to think you don't want to do this."

"Starting?"

She glared down at him fiercely. "Do you or do you not want to help?"

"Troublesome," the man muttered, shifting in his seat to get away from her pinning eyes.

"Well?" the blonde challenged imperiously. "Answer the question!"

"I want to help you," Shikamaru painfully pronounced.

"Out of the innate goodness of your human nature?"

"...Yes."

"Excellent." Ino clapped her hands enthusiastically. "Hokage-sama would be pleased to hear about your cooperation."

Shikamaru continued to mutter about women and their troublesome ways—imprudently, Neji thought. He had worked with the tactician in countless missions before and knew the man was extremely skilled in gauging battles and choosing which ones to answer and which ones to prudently retreat from. The man was either extremely irritated right now or was deliberately baiting his companion. Neji moved his gaze to the man beside Shikamaru. Chouji was busily eating his bowl of rice topping, obviously leaving his best friend to stand alone.

"Why do you need his help, Ino-chan?" Sakura asked curiously. "I mean, you had lots of volunteers in the last meeting."

"Yeah, I could use a more enthusiastic person, ne?" Ino rolled her eyes. "What do you expect from a man?"

"You're wrong, Ino," spoke up Chouji. "Shikamaru may not be enthusiastic, but he won't let you down."

Shikamaru gave him a long suffering look. "Thanks a lot."

"I told you, Shikamaru, when it comes to food..." Chouji shook his head gravely. "You're my best friend, but you shouldn't have eaten that last piece of beef."

"But why Shikamaru?" insisted Sakura. "We have female ambassadors to Sand. Naruto can talk to their Kazekage, if you want him to. Well, I personally know Gaara-san, too, just that Naruto's much closer to him."

"Sand?" repeated Chouji.

"Yeah, the Clique started first in the Hidden village of the Sand," explained Ino. "We're just creating a chapter here in Konoha."

"Unnecessary," muttered Shikamaru. "It's just the women's excuse to get together and gossip."

Ino spun around to face him, furious. "_You_," she spat. "Are the walking proof that Konohagakure no Sato needs the Clique! Kunoichi has always been a minority and it's time for us to step up to the challenge of the future. Our voices must be heard!"

"I hear it loud and clear." Shikamaru's hand twitched towards his ear again, but he apparently thought the better of it. "This is the trouble with female Hokages."

"For your information, it's my idea. And why shouldn't kunoichi be represented? How many are we in this room? I can crowd all female names in my two hands. Two hands! Attrition rate of kunoichi has traditionally been the highest. Among the jounin, the ANBU, the specialty areas... That's why Tsunade-sama is the heroine of every kunoichi. She defied your likes."

Shikamaru blinked at her lazily. "My likes? It's my fault fewer girls enroll in the Ninja Academy in the first place?"

She ignored him and continued her diatribe. "_Your_ likes. You who think that women are good for nothing but keeping households. Over the years, kunoichi are forced to retire to raise families. Well, that shouldn't be! If only they get the right support from the village, from each other, they wouldn't be overwhelmed by the mounting responsibilities. They would be able to balance career and family! And you---" She pointed at him. "You are in a position to help us realize that dream. Don't you understand that!"

"I already said yes. Why are you belaboring it?"

Ino huffed enormously, turned red and white alternately. Then she sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. "I've had it. I don't care what you do, male chauvinist pig. I will coordinate with Temari-san myself."

And with that, she stomped off, leaving Shikamaru with a dark expression on his face.

Tenten, as many others, followed Ino with her eyes as the kunoichi took refuge in the buffet table.

"Interesting," the weapon specialist said, obviously intrigued.

Neji snorted derisively.

"What?" she asked him. "I think it's interesting."

"Unnecessary, as he said." Neji thought Tenten would have more sense, would see through the intellectualized little tantrum.

But Tenten had started to move away, trying to hide her displeasure. "Whatever."

"Wait," Neji called after her.

"Yeah?" She looked back at him expectantly.

Tenten, weapon specialist, worked closely with her idol Tsunade these days. Neji needed information only available in the Hokage's office. He disliked usage of a thirdparty in conducting his affairs, but his responsibility and duty to the clan of Hyuuga took priority.

It all boiled down to necessity.

"I have a favor to ask..." he began.

April 13, 2005 (12:50am)

* * *

Thanks for looking this over, Midnightcrow. (By the way, Kiba hitting on Hanabi is her fault. LOL)

Neptune, thanks for the feedback. Quick or not, it was very helpful. I am trying to use Neji's POV because of that reason, and I'm glad it's working. The Hanabi/Hinata dynamic... too bad it was never shown in the manga how they really act around each other. I'm glad you liked it.

J (you are who I think you are, aren't you?), thanks for the quick 101. Neji's mental remark about Hinata shaking in her geta was figurative, a weak adaptation of the phrase "shaking in ones boots." Thanks for the reminder, all the same.

Mikki, hello! I'm glad you found your way to this story, too. : )

Minna, thanks for reading. Criticism welcome, as always.


	7. Chapter 6: Business Meetings Come With

Disclaimer: Naruto is not my property, intellectual or otherwise. (That would have been convinient, though, so I wouldn't have to find a job, right?)

**Chapter 6: Business Meetings Come With Power Dining**

Proof of the swiftly passing days was the increasingly lazy morning sun. The lord of the skies seemed sluggish these days, appearing late and retiring early, its usual climb up the firmament's stretch progressively climaxing lower than the previous zenith. Warming up took time, as well, and only after half the day has passed would the sun show a glimmer of the fierce strength it extravagantly radiated mere weeks before.

Hinata found it hard to blame the sun. It was not easy to wake up so early, especially when the chill lingered on the earth's surface like leftover night. She had stayed up till the wee hours of the morning, however, and she had no right to complain---ninjas must be prepared to adjust to highly variable schedules. Nonetheless, such admirable thoughts wilted impotently against the pillows that seemed extra fluffy, the blankets that seemed extra warm, and the futon that seemed extra soft, as she willed herself to rise the usual hour before dawn.

Only after washing her face did she realize she didn't have a mission to go to, anyway.

It was still dark when she began her morning exercises. Hanatarou-san, a dear, kind man, visited her shortly, informing her of a scheduled meeting with the Hokage in an hour. He apologized profusely for his late delivery of information, but Hinata assured him with equal keenness. In truth, she was happy, having been reminded of her excursion with the Prince Amarillo. That was almost a bodyguard mission, wasn't it?

And so, Hinata briskly readied herself, and as the pitch blackness of the fleeing night gave way to diluted inkiness, started on her way to the Hokage's office with the gentle elder at her side. Neji-nii was standing at the gates as they passed, and after nodding in response to her greeting, followed after them wordlessly.

The Godaime Hokage of Konohagakure no Sato could be said to be different from the other Hokage Konoha has had. The most obvious difference was her gender, of course. She was also the only one who never worked with a predecessor, never quite had a mentor. She inherited the village with all its problem-the Akatsuki, Orochimaru, the aftermath of Sand's attack-and groped her way through the first few years of her rule. Hinata thought the Hokage did an amazing job, especially since the legendary woman probably had to deal with resistance from skeptics.

Hinata's admiration was beyond words.

Still, it was rather disconcerting to hear the irascible snore of your absolute commander. The image of the Hokage slumped on a cluttery desk with a half-empty box of pastries that was probably some days old just managed to tarnish the larger-than-life stories about the mednin of the Sansukumi. The very thought, felt Hinata, was akin to blasphemy.

Stymied, Hyuuga Hinata stepped in front of Tsunade's desk, caught in a dilemma. Should she awaken the slumbering Hokage? Tsunade-sama was obviously tired; she wouldn't be sleeping in such an awkward position otherwise. Fuwa Amarillo-san must have kept the Godaime lingering over their drinks and conversation. She had heard from Naruto-kun that Tsunade-sama drank quite a lot when she did drink.

But this, she had seen first hand, for though she arrived late, the Hokage did come to Naruto's party. She had immediately joined with the merry group of the remaining guests. Hinata went home half an hour later with Neji (Hanabi went home much earlier), but the old Team 7 and the other G9s stayed. Hokage-sama seemed to have enjoyed much.

Hinata enjoyed last night very much, too. Spending time with Kiba-kun and Shino-kun was fun as well, though sweetly nostalgic, but it was also oddly uplifting to see the gathering of friends who came to celebrate Naruto's birthday. Hinata found herself wanting to express effusive gratitude towards Sakura-san and Sasuke-san. That would have been strange, of course, so she merely thanked the pink-haired mednin for a well-planned party and the taciturn Uchiha for his hospitality.

Presently, Hinata glanced at her companions, half-hopeful of receiving some assistance. Neji-nii was standing behind her, silent and unsurprised. Hyuuga Hanatarou-san was at her side, patiently waiting. They expected her to do all the talking, of course. They were just her escorts, were adjuncts to her. It was strange to think that way, Hinata thought nervously.

But what was the use of thinking, anyway? She took a deep breath and strode forward.

"Hokage-sama," she murmured, shaking the older woman gently. "We have come."

The Hokage stirred. Oddly swan-like, considering how her blond hair stuck out like hay in some parts, Tsunade lifted her head. Her eyes opened a crack and peered about the room disinterestedly. Then, to Hinata's sheer mortification, her body slumped down on the table, letting slip something unmistakably pink before collapsing back to her uncomfrotable slouch with a resounding thud.

Hinata saw that neither of her companions would volunteer to rescue her from the awkward situation. "H-hokage-sama!" she repeated, louder this time. "It's Hyuuga Hinata. We've come as you requested."

It was ineffectual. The Hokage merely let out a particularly discordant snore.

The girl inched closer and, with a visible gulp, began to shake the shinobi leader vigorously.

"Hokage-sama," she said, painfully loud. "So sorry to be disturbing you, but we have matters to discuss. I'm sure you have other important matters to attend to this morning, so I must insist to rouse you. My apologies, again."

A hazel eye popped open suddenly, sending Hinata leaping out of her skin.

"Now that wasn't so bad," Tsunade drawled.

Intimidated by the yawning Godaime, Hinata was only able to nod in response.

"Good morning," the Hokage said. "Hanatarou, Neji." She stretched generously. "And Hinata, have a melon bread."

"I beg your pardon?" Hinata blinked.

"Have a melon bread." The Hokage waved the pastry at her, gesturing at its lopsided box.

"O-oh." Hinata took a pastry obediently. "Thank you."

"I heard you wanted to bring Amarillo-sama to the Chanting Falls," said Tsunade through a mouthful.

"Yes, Hokage-sama," Hinata answered, composure regained. "There's a trail there that is never done enough justice. The trip is just as rewarding as the destination's spectacular views."

"I agree." Tsunade grinned. "Think he'll last?"

Hinata smiled back almost sheepishly. "His Highness seemed really eager to do so. I'll refrain from judging his fortitude beforehand."

"I thought him interesting, too." Tsunade sifted through the documents before her. "Of course, we'll need the appropriate escort. He has his own bodyguards, the three genins and their sensei. There's you, Hinata. Neji's with you, so we only need another jounin."

"Might I be so forward to suggest a name, Hokage-sama, Hinata-sama?" Hanatarou spoke up. "Why not Naruto-kun?"

"Naruto?" Hinata was as surprised as Tsunade.

"Uzumaki Naruto, yes," said Hanatarou. "I've seen the list of available jounin yesterday. He seemed to be the most appropriate. The ANBU is out of the question, very bad form. They are suggestive of hostility and can easily be misinterpreted as a form of pressure from the Hokage's part. Uzumaki Naruto is known in some parts as a diplomat, a known name. It would be an honor to have such an escort."

"I suppose there's nothing wrong with that." Tsunade shrugged. "And you get along with him well, don't you, Hinata?"

"Um...yes, Hokage-sama." she answered.

Tsunade looked up from her writing suddenly. "Is there a problem, Neji?"

Hinata turned to her cousin to his response. He didn't look upset to her, but neither did he look pleased.

"I have no problems," Neji said. "But I don't speak for everybody."

"Okay," Hokage said. "Naruto it is."

Neji-nii was staring at Hanatarou, his visage unreadable. Her older and more distant cousin was not visibly perturbed by this pregnant observation, but she suspected that was due to a well-trained self-control. In the end, she shrugged it away; she had always been under the impression that Neji-nii disliked Hanatarou-san immensely.

Afterwards, the conversation shifted to lighter topics. Hanatarou-san asked the Hokage about her meeting with the prince and, surprisingly, Uzumaki Naruto's birthday party. Hokage-sama said she enjoyed the latter in particular, her smile strongly supporting her claim. She was quite fond of Naruto-kun, Hinata suspected. It was him who found Tsunade-sama after the Sandaime died, after all, she remembered. She had been recovering from the injuries she incurred fighting against Neji-nii at that time.

The Godaime also expressed approval of Ino-san's clique, which Hinata had joined after the blonde's impassioned speech. Hinata thought it would be nice to join a club for young women, as she didn't really have many female friends growing up. Though a bit inebriated, Ino-san remembered to remind her of the once-a-week meetings as Hinata was leaving for home with her cousin. Equally tipsy, Sakura-san chirped for Hinata to not forget about her new partner.

"You're eating that, aren't you, Hinata?"

"What? O-oh. Of course, Hokage-sama."

Hinata finally bit into the slightly mushed melon bread and was pleasantly surprised.

"This is delicious, Hokage-sama," said Hinata truthfully. "The melon filling is particularly wonderful. Did you make this?"

"No, Sakura did. I recognized last night's cookies, too. I bet she made them."

"Oh, I see. I loved those cookies as well. I would ask her about her recipes then, the next time we meet for the clique."

Sakura-san was her newly-assigned clique buddy.

* * *

. 

The receiving room he was lead to was stark and devoid of the subtle decorations of the outside, but it was neat and perfectly suitable to the occasion. The translucent paper door painted golden flecks on the tatami-covered floor---the shoji was not as seamlessly crafted as one might have expected, he thought absently.

He was offered no refreshments.

But that was to be expected. He was, after all, the supplicant here. Humility was a necessity, especially since the reinstitution of his clan was the reason for this whole exercise of futility. (Oh yes, he didn't think Hyuuga's legacy reached so deep into the past if its leaders were complete buffoons, and he did consider handing ones heiress to a former S-class criminal stupid beyond words).

He wondered if his father would have approved of his imminent groveling before this white-eyed clan.

Sasuke's father was a taciturn man who rarely betrayed emotions. He was cold, exacting in criticism and sparse with praise, due to an inability to express his feelings well, his wife said. Sometimes, as he passed silently in the streets of the village and the village people foolishly thought he could not hear, they would remark on the similarity of their dominant facial expression, severity, but that was where the comparison ended. Sasuke's father was said to be an excellent chief of the military police, was said to be a respected, highly regarded leader by the entire Konohagakure no Sato. Sasuke himself did not posses his father's impressive qualities.

Sasuke's mother was a typical mother, in his opinion---kind, gentle, cheerful, understanding, and so on. She had a particularly outstanding command of lower body taijutsu and an impeccable marksmanship she passed on to both her children. She had been a chuunin before she married his father, Sasuke knew, for their story had been one of the many things he had unearthed from the Uchiha sector. It had taken him years to finish inspecting the property he had inherited so suddenly, countless nights ago.

She had been the only daughter of a matriarchal family of genjutsu experts. Strong, she was; would have Uchiha's heir become interested in her otherwise? As per Uchiha's customs, his father humbled himself before the head of the woman's family. And humbled he was, for the current head of the said clan was the woman herself, for five days before his father presented his suit to her, her only sibling died in an ambush.

Also per Uchiha's tradition, ten days passed before he acknowledged her acquiescence _to allow the wooing_. Another thirty days passed before the engagement became official, and in that thirty days, they shared a roof but never a bed. Then, there was the wedding---more complicated customs.

And now, he was about to undergo the same set of rituals.

He had little difficulty in deciding to ask the Hyuuga head for his daughter. He was Uchiha---if that was not good enough for Hyuuga, it didn't deserve his concern. Eventually, he would have to find a wife. Since he didn't have any particular person in mind, there was no reason to risk challenging the blatant nudge he had received from the upper powers. They wanted him woo Hinata? So be it. He would have to start somewhere in his search. If luck was with him, she'd be the one, and he'd have to undergo less trouble.

That he only decided last night was immaterial. He could not sleep, not even long after he had kicked Naruto, who was dangerously becoming too sickly sentimental to bear, out his front door. His house had regained its unadulterated silence, but the energy of that night had clung to him and sank deep in his bones. Perhaps, it was that hounding wakefulness that gave him the clarity of mind to finally settle the dilemma.

Presently, the paper door slid open, and he was roused from his thoughts. A servant knelt outside expectantly. Sasuke rose from the tatami mat and followed the white-eyed young woman.

Hyuuga Hiashi was seated in a receiving room, wearing the dark regal robes of his clan. He inclined his head in greeting as Sasuke entered. The latter bowed back as an equal, as one clan head to another. He sat down at the place provided for him before the Hyuuga.

"Uchiha Sasuke, you wish to woo my first-born child," the Hyuuga head said without preamble. "What are your intentions? Why should I allow it?"

"My intention is the reinstitution of my clan, Hyuuga Hiashi." He would not say "sama." He was not beneath this man, for Uchiha had its own greatness, albeit past, albeit spent. "Your daughter, Hyuuga Hinata, is a worthy candidate. You would say the same yourself."

"Perhaps," agreed Hiashi, white eyes impenetrable. "Perhaps not."

Sasuke paused and returned the nonplussed gaze of the older man. "Perhaps, perhaps not," he echoed. "And there is also the question of my worth. There are proceedings dictated by the customs of both our families to prove this."

"I am aware of the customs of Uchiha regarding courtship." The Hyuuga nodded slowly, perhaps in satisfaction. "I am pleased you choose to uphold them. Then you must be aware that I will not grant you permission to woo my child while there are other men presenting their suits."

"Aa. I will return in ten days."

"Our house will answer in ten days, then."

Sasuke then sat in silence with the Hyuuga head. Each attended to the simmering cup of tea before them. Each entertained ones own thoughts, enclosed in the same room but vastly set apart.

* * *

. 

Hyuuga's house was usually forbidding and silent. Even its children were rarely allowed to wander aimlessly in its gardens in imaginary adventures, never unleashed to rampage about its serene halls. The moment Neji learned how to walk, he learned how to fight----others with less talent were no exception.

Despite the elegant show of wealth and power the family consistently displayed to its visitors, the Hyuuga were at heart minimalists almost to the point of ascetism. Their most lavish apartments were reserved for guests, but true to their nature, the Hyuuga did not consider their guests' privacy that high up in the list. In fact, no self-respecting Hyuuga would want a room with so many... holes.

Neji had no need of stealth today, and he sat near the entrance of the room, watching the goings on, listening to the melding chatter, and automatically filing away everything he collected in his brain. Mostly, he watched the genins, idly computing in his mind how long it would take the three to demolish the aged mansion, if left unbriddled by their sensei.

Their names were Mai, Katsuo, and Hib. He would remember their names, as well as their apparent personalities and predilections, for his charge was going to spend days with these warrior-children in the wilderness. Mai, the serious-faced kunoichi with the acid tongue, was the one chuunin on the team. The other two, who constantly competed in terms of self-proclaimed genius and of noise production, were both still genins. No matter how guileless they seemed, it never crossed Neji's mind to dismiss them as mere kids. They had eyes and ears, brains for thinking and limbs for action, trained since infancy to utilize all senses in precise and instinctive assessment of their surroundings. It would require a delicate balance to walk them through Fire country's pristine natural wonders without spoonfeeding them too much information on the landscape, without marring the friendly mood of the simple vacation.

More importantly, Neji would remember their jounin sensei, the mednin Shinoda Iga.

After serenely slamming a foot and a fist on her squabbling teammates' faces, Mai leaned over her sensei's shoulder as the young mednin and the prince listened to Hinata-sama's briefing.

"The Chanting falls is southwest from here," she summarized, pointing to the map laid out before her. "We leave at 0300hrs early tomorrow, using the main road from the village's southern gate, so I highly recommended his Highness to retire early this evening for a fresh start. In a leisurely pace, we would reach the town of Umeda at 1300hrs. From Umeda, we go south-south-west through a forest trail and reach the Chanting Falls after five hours. We can explore the area the rest of the day and camp there for the night. We can start for home after lunch the next day and spend the night in the town of Umeda."

So far, there had been no interruptions from the Prince Amarillo, but as Neji expected, the former quickly took the floor as the heiress finished the briefing with an apologetic tilt of his head.

"Dear lady," he said, his bushy brows crinkled in earnest. "Your presentation was invaluably informative, but delivered tastefully succinct. I would like, however, to further inquire on the details of the nature of the terrain we shall venture on tomorrow. My dear cousin is quite concerned about selecting the appropriate footwear."

As Hinata-sama described the rocky hike, Neji left the prince's sitting room. The day that started out frigid had warmed enough to leave the sliding door open, to let in the mild sunshine and the occasional breeze that brought the smell of the autumn flowers from the garden. Outside, he travelled past the inner apartments, usually empty, via the banistered walkway. These rooms formed an octagon around the private park of Hyuuga, but the mansion was built in an era that regarded fashionable superstition over practicality. Neji had to walk to the other side, where the only entrance was first to greet the sun first every morning.

Neji had no time to ponder about the architectural geniuses of time gone-by, much less listen to his cousin translate the brief but cryptic shinobi-planned trip to her guest in more tangible terms. He was more concerned with the major proponent of the excursion, Hyuuga Hanatarou, with whom he had spent hours of yesterday hammering out details of the hike.

Hyuuga Hanatarou's behavior was increasingly suspicious. The older man was obviously maneuvering the situation to fit his own ambitions and was embarrassingly conspicuous at it, in Neji's opinion. Uzumaki Naruto was not in the arrangement. Hanabi had been present in the meeting with Hiashi-sama and had already presented herself as the third Konoha nin.

Though Hanatarou had reasonably attributed the sudden change of plans to Hanabi's currently labile mood, it would not be illogical to think the self-satisfied Elder was actively blocking the suit of Prince Amarillo. The former had been the one actively lobbying for the government to orchestrate the "encouragement" of Uchiha's union with Hyuuga. He had personally advised the lone Uchiha to consider Hinata-sama as his future bride. Now, he was pressing Naruto into an excursion that could decide the future of Hyuuga.

Whatever the Elder's reason for choosing Naruto as the third Konoha nin, it was obvious how he would affect the interactions between Hinata-sama and the prince. Without meaning to, Naruto would be distracting to Hinata, would draw attention away from Fuwa Amarillo, leaving the suitor awkwardly alone. And perhaps, Hinata-sama herself would be uncomfortable with her friend's presence.

Hinata-sama was, more often than not, a pathetic liar.

Neji had seen her in undercover missions, sure that others barely recognized her, but when out of uniform, Hinata-sama was too straightforward to act. Betraying her feelings happenstance was not impossible.

Or perhaps, Neji was foolishly concerned over nothing. Hinata-sama had an infatuation on Naruto when she was twelve. It wasn't as if she constantly confessed undying love, so Neji did not know exactly how she felt. She admired the blond jounin greatly, but that energetic man could ineffably charm the weirdest creature, anyway.

That was not to say Neji was ever particularly interested in other people's romantic pursuits.

Presently, Neji was nearing the last obtuse corner to the wooden stairway. He stopped as he passed the bend, a fisted hand firmly held behind his head at a weird angle. A heartbeat later, a dagger was flying back to its owner.

The wiry young woman dextrously caught the speeding projectile, innocently twirling the weapon as she drew away from the wall. She was not in uniform, instead wearing the cotton sleeveless blouse and the stretch capri she had usually worn as a child. Form-fitting as her clothes were, she had several kilograms of metal strapped about various parts of her anatomy. Even her shoes were most likely designed to hurt, enemies and vertebrae both.

"You're late," she said in greeting.

"Considering I was born here, had lived here twenty-two years, am indefinitely required to solely give my services to the clan, and the services involve a person who has been here for the last three hours talking her throat hoarse, I highly doubt that."

Tenten whistled in amazement. "You stayed at Naruto's till morning, didn't you? Or worse, you raided the bolted fancy wine cellar of your uncle when Uchiha kicked you out. I don't believe it. Who drugged you?"

Neji turned from his half-swivel and resumed his steady-paced walk.

"No, really---are you drunk, inebriated, stoned? You spoke one, two... forty-five words in one breath. That's amazing and all, but definitely out of character."

"And punctuality is out of yours."

"Fine," Tenten admitted with a sigh. "I should have taken the little boy's offer to 'announce' me, instead of trying to navigate this maze."

Without looking back, Neji gestured for her to follow. "I warned you about snooping in the armory," he said.

"Snooping? If I manage to learn how to levitate in Tsunade-sama's strength training program, I might manage to snoop in this house. How'd you like my new toy, by the way?"

The new toy, he had to admit, was impressively wrought. The tiny blade was light enough to easily hurl even with compromised arm strength, but heavy enough to stay on course on a windy day, if applied the right force. The dagger was streamlined to slide deep into the enemy's flesh, but an interesting mechanism triggered some miniscule contraption of hooks in the hilt that would complicate its extrication. Tenten had a tendency to like weapons that slid in neatly and pulled chunks of flesh on their way out in case the enemy survived the initial penetrating wound, which was why he used a palm protected by a dense layer of chakra to catch the otherwise ordinary-looking kunai.

"Throwing several of these at once would be inefficient," Neji finally said.

"Yeah, I'm working on that."

"Anything else you'd like to show off?"

"Show off? My weapons are my sole vanity. Give me a break."

"Your hair."

She instinctively clutched the thick coils of auburn at her temples. "It's my heritage. You know about familial pride."

"Painted toes."

"Hokage-sama's fault," she growled.

"Show them off later. You have it?"

Tenten grumbled under her breath as they entered the picturesque alcove formed by one of the willows in the garden. She continued to do so as she sat on the impeccably groomed grass.

"Was my favor one of those you call kunai-in-the-rear-end?" he asked as he leaned against the gnarled trunk of the decorative tree.

He watched her patiently as she straightened her bunched-up capri and pulled the fabric over her knee. "The fabled Garden of the Billion Blooms," she said. "It's gorgeous. As I've always imagined."

And she was pissed off that he brought her here, to a much pampered but much ignored place he had never wanted to go to, after years of outright pleading. It meant he was that intent on keeping the information that would pass between them shortly strictly their own. It meant the favor he asked was much more complicated, much more serious, than she perceived it when he spoke to her last night.

"You feel used," he said. "That's uncalled for. We hadn't settled on a prize for this favor beforehand. Your bargaining powers are indefinitely expandable."

"I'm sure," she muttered sarcastically.

He ignored that. "What did you find out?"

"Well, I read the official report logged by your cousin's team. Also, I read the official request form submitted by the client. The only hard copy I was able to procure is the briefing summary given to the team prior the mission. You know how it is."

Konoha kept a detailed database on all the missions her ninjas had ever undertaken, even all the requests that have either been declined by the village or retracted by the client. Specialized ninjas, called mission analysts, pored over these classified documents to study the positive and negative aspects of Konoha operations. They also sought possible patterns of activity that could indicate suspicious happenings in the surrounding nations. Failures, dead-ends, these were scrutinized as well, and when further investigation was necessary, a special team was deployed. Tenten had joined that special force a year ago.

"Here."

Neji took the crumpled scroll from her.

_**Mission Rank**: Class A (Medium Probability of S-Class upgrade)  
**Client**: Himasaki Nia  
**Client Profile (abridged)**: 3rd born daughter of recently deposed daimyo of Lemongrass Country. Lord Niji is under house arrest as the new government decide on appropriate action. 3 daughters, Nes, Nora, & Nia escaped earlier and were bestowed asylum by Rock Country, Fire Country, and Mist Country respectively. Client is deemed to have negligible influence on international affairs and holds no political importance. See Appendix A for additional information on the fiefdom of Lemongrass.  
**Mission Summary:** Escort Nia to the neutral territory of Marima (See Appendix B for additional information on Marima). Custody of Nia shall be released to Mist Nins in the trading outpost of Hakusai, lat HGS; long YSH.  
**Mission Status:** Accepted  
------ ----- ------  
Appendix A: Land locked Lemongrass Country is west of Fire Country, also bounded by Stone country and Wheat Country, north and south respectively. Area: 200, 075 sq km. Pop: 308,700. Capital: Ebi. Largely consists of plains, rolling hills, and thick forests in the east. Economy: largely trade, some agricultural. Daimyo Himasaki Niji overthrown one month ago, as a result of long brewing revolution of growing middle class. Country currently controlled by the Tsururu-gumi. New form of government being developed by controlling group. Supplemental information on Lemongrass political history available upon request.  
Appendix B: Neutral territory of Marima is a narrow strip of land in the western shore of the main island of Mist country. It had been traditionally used by all five Great Shinobi nations as one of their international meeting places, of which each country has. Area: 5,634 sq km. Pop: 13,645. Very mountainous area. Aside from the city of Kana, where various embassies are, it is largely inhabited by hunters, miners, hermits, wanderers, and wild goats._

"The team that went, as you know," Tenten was saying, "consists of Hinata, Inuzuka Kiba, Natsuki Maya, Anzai Naoto---your basic 4-man cell. They're well-balanced in terms of individual strengths and weaknesses, suitable for a Class A mission. It was highly unlikely for an S-class ambush to have occurred, but they should have been able to handle it, which they did. In fact, hiring an A-class escort for the princess was just a formality Fire country was obliged to fulfill."

"And the supplemental information on Lemongrass?"

"Given on a need-to-know basis." Tenten shrugged. "There's been rumors of a possible invasion from one of its neighbors; you know how unmilitarized Lemongrass is. We ninjas aren't necessarily all incorruptible. The less eyes able to see such sensitive information, the better. Lemongrass probably in more danger than it ever has been in centuries."

"Then deeming the princess as politically unimportant was erroneous."

Tenten shifted as she reflected. "Not necessarily. The turnover of power was surprisingly amicable. The old king was simply dethroned because people wanted change. He wasn't ruling much from the start; his line has been more like a figurehead for several generations. He has absolutely no bargaining powers politcally, so Nia is useless as a hostage."

"This event would have repercussions on Mist politics, however minimal."

"Oh yes, that's a popular take on this."

"It's the official stance of the Mist government on the issue."

Tenten nodded. "Yes, the attack on the Lemongrass princess was attributed to attempts to destabilize the relationship between Mist and Fire country. A variation of that story was given in their press release. The S-class ambush was reduced to a bunch of the usual Marima bandits. The usual stuff."

Neji handed her back the summary. "And the logged report?"

"Basically, it's the same as what you already know. The team departed from Konoha at midnight on October 5. They picked up Nia-sama at the capital of Fire country and were onboard a small fishing boat to Mist country by 0800hrs of the same day. They docked at Mirama's only pier very early the next day.

"On their way to the trading outpost, Hakusai, they got a tipoff on the planned ambush from a Mirama-based Konoha operative about the suspicous behavior of the animals in the area. The team were able to spring the trap of the rogue ninjas, while the princess was kept in a secure area.

"The team split in to two, each with a ninja posing as the princess. Two of the enemies went after Kiba and Hinata, while the other two followed Maya and Naoto. Kiba and Hinata and the dog were able to disable their pursuers swiftly enough, reportedly by her Jyuukenhou, and the latter withdrew. Kiba and Hinata went to the pre-arranged meeting with the team and found the dead bodies of the other two enemies.

"As the two followed their comrades' trail, they were ambushed by the regrouped enemy. Apparently, the two were not really not, but were able to mimic a death-like state. Yuu Shinosuke, a missing Mist nin, was mortally injured in the ensuing fight, while the other three retreated when the other two Leaf nins arrived. Yuu Shinosuke had dosed himself with poison prior the ambush. They were unable to find an antidote to stop his death and were unable to get any information from him."

"His body was taken by Mist body cleaners," Neji stated.

"Yes. He was the medic of the group. He was the one able to repair the damage dealt by Hinata's Jyuukenhou attacks, which, while not at your level, are still insidiously formidable. What more? The Touchless One's attack do not bruise. It's hard to heal injuries that show no symptoms."

Neji snorted derisively. "Don't use that name in a Hyuuga's presence."

Tenten blinked. "What name?"

"Touchless One," Neji almost spat out.

Tenten silently looked at him, eyes unreadable. When she finally spoke, her tone was light. "And I thought hearing that genin's lame insults after I rebuffed his advaces," she remarked, "Was the most immature thing I'd have to hear today."

Neji didn't care what she thought. It was nothing he had not heard from Maito Gai, things he knew she wanted to say but would not say, due to an unspoken promise not to she gave as a child.

"Hinata-sama was injured in that fight," he said instead, returning to her narrative.

"Poisoned. The results of her blood and tissue analysis came today. They don't know how exactly the poison entered her system. Through blood by some microscopic injury or by something she ate much earlier, who knows? It affected her SA node----the pacemaker of her heart. She lost consciousness because her heart started beating erratically. Of course, her health history predisposed her to it."

"...I see," Neji merely said. Of course, he knew where this said predisposition stemmed from. The heiress' secret vulnerability was a hallmark of his own strength and power. Her less than excellent cardiovascular health was a scar left by their duel as genins.

"Anyway, the medic Maya stabilized her. She and Naoto had brought Nia-sama to the Mist embassy in Kana, where Mist nins took custody of the princess. Then, they had returned to the area, followed by some Mist nins, when they found Hinata out cold with Kiba and Akamaru. They also interviewed the surviving merchants in the outpost, but they had been knocked unconscious and were probably only alive because the rogues found it convinient to leave them so."

"Kazuma Ada is also an A-class criminal, a missing Mist nin."

"Yes. Naga Yuuhi and Yukimura Blood-shanks were former Stone nins, both also Class A. As a group, some bingo books consider them Class S."

"Any additional information on their group?"

"Nope. Sorry."

"That might have been helpful in uncovering their motives."

"Neji, the mission analysts are on this. Getting my hands on those files would take time and serious guts."

"Which one are you lacking?"

"I said I'm working on it."

"No, you didn't."

Tenten gave him a long-suffering look. "_Anyway_, our investigators do maintain that Hinata was indeed the target of the ambush and not the princess. So far, there had been no other attempt on Nia in the capital of Mist country."

"Hiashi-sama had been led to favor the idea of treachery on the Mist's part."

"Well... It's hard to know at this point what the real objective of the ambush was. We have people on Marima investigating the situation. Mist nins are also scouring their country for the three remaining rogues. They're in everybody's bingo lists, anyway."

"Would the Hokage be persuaded to join the hunt?"

"Nah. I don't think she will put it on her priority list. It's Mist territory. Even if Marima is technically out of Mist Country's sovereignity, the unspoken law puts Marima under Kirigakure no Sato's jurisdiction."

Neji nodded. "Anything else?"

"That's it. I'll work on the information on the missing nins."

"Good."

And they said no more. They remained there for a few moments under the willow, him standing, her sitted. The wind was light and pleasing. It carried to his ear snippets of the conversation between the Hyuuga heiress and her suitor.

"Lunch?"

Tenten blinked in surprise. "Now?"

"While Hinata-sama's with Amarillo."

"Oh. Okay."

They left the Garden of the Billion Blooms.

21:08:36 Monday, May 23, 2005

* * *

. 

Power dining... I heard the phrase "power lunch" from a friend. I wonder if "power dining" works, too.

Hello, readers-of-other-stories-who've-found-their-way-here! lori, Icarusy, and Emeraleyes, I hope you enjoy this fic, as well. Ori, thanks for the comment on Neji's observations, as well as your comment on "Undertowed." I must say, it was gorgeously written. ) Neptune, I'm glad you enjoy Neji's POV (likewise, Scented Candles). At first, I had a hard time making his character distinct from Sasuke, since they're both the taciturn type, but Neji was unexpectedly fun to write. (Yes, Scented Candles, my humor is a little dry). Shika and Ino... How can I leave them out? XD Lilac, Nel... and well, everybody, thanks for the feedback on characterization. Tami on the writing style, thank you. ) Since this is written in third-person limited POV, I try hard to make the narration sound like the character thinking. I'm glad it works. Hujin, Chouji only has a couple of speaking lines. laughs sheepishly Miko-chan, I'm glad you enjoyed Spongebob's cameo appearance (likewise Neptune). XD J, (jokebenicetoatejoke) we won't see Hinata's reaction till about two chapters later. Like she said, the clan doesn't need to tell her anything, and true enough they don't. Oo

Till next time.


	8. Chapter 7: Skittering On the Edge

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, etc. Borrowing for the purposes of entertainment, procrastination, and basically, escapism. 

Chapter 7: Skittering On the Edges

At night, there was silence, there was void, and there was darkness. Time seemed to still, especially in massive houses with its collection of empty rooms remaining undisturbed for hours, the furniture within ominously frozen. Each table, each chair, seemed poised to use their legs, creaking laboriously as they prepared to crawl about----not that they ever did. An anticipation of sorts seemed to hang about the air, and it hinted of the dreadful and the grotesque. The deadest of night was a masterful mimic of the end of the world.

It was at this deadest of night Hinata stared back as she peered about the hall outside her bedroom. The hall was empty and dark, but with her white eyes, she could easily navigate through the pitch blackness. She quickly slipped out her simple room, a small knapsack slung over one shoulder.

She flitted quickly on silent toes, aiming for the nearest exit in the building. Perhaps, her footsteps would summon the nightly sentries, but they were of no concern to her. She would be allowed passage without question.

As she turned into one corridor, she felt a presence beside her. Recognizing the person, she turned around to greet the guard and came face to face with an upside down glare.

"Shut up."

Ceasing the chakra flow to her feet, the ninja hit the floor with both palms, easily rebounding to an upright position. Without preamble, the kunoichi grabbed Hinata's arm and dragged her outside. When they reached the lawn, the guard relinquished her and stood a foot away, arms crossed over her chest tensely. Her eyes, glowing in the moonlight, was staring at the older girl expectantly.

"Well?" she said.

"Well what, Hanabi-chan?" the other answered mildly.

"Did you request my replacement?"

Hinata blinked at her sister. "What?"

"You know I've been replaced---don't what me " the other growled. "I was suppose to go with you to that stupid excursion, not that hyperactive fool of jounin."

"Hanabi, I didn't even know—"

"That's the point. Why don't you make it your business to know?" Hanabi's sneer was evident in her voice. "Your complacency will be you downfall, oneesama. Realize your folly before your blooming career as the Hyuuga heiress ends prematurely."

Hinata sighed. "I realize you're worried," she began, but, startled, the older girl clamped her mouth shut. Eyebrows crinkling together, she stared at the deadly glint of the kunai positioned over one of her subclavian arteries.

"You realize, don't you? I can slit you open from ear to ear right now. Nobody'd hear as much as a squeal."

Hinata staggered with the weight of her sister's words. The young girl's eyes were agate-hard, and as the cloud slowly blotted out the full moon, became shadowed. "Is that a threat?" the jounin stammered.

"You noticed."

Hinata sighed sadly. "To what purpose, sister?"

"To what purpose? " the other exploded, ire mottling her pale face. "Why do people usually hold other people at knife point? To bring home a point, correct? The threat—" Hanabi paused to huff, seemingly summoning an inordinate amount of patience from thin air. "The threat is closer to home than you think."

Hinata felt her temper rise, bitter like bile in her throat, but she was determined to master it, as always she did. Swallowing, she took a moment to struggle with the unwanted anger, breathing deeply to cool her head. "Everybody is over-reacting," she said in a firm tone.

"Exactly." Hanabi glanced askance. "She would have been dead five minutes before you came."

Beside them, Neji stood against the walls of the mansion calmly. "But that's not a hypothesis you'd care to prove," he replied dryly. "Is it?"

Hanabi stared at the bird-mask of the shadowed ANBU, before turning back to her sister. Deliberately, she drew the blade away from the other's chest and slipped it inside her yukata.

"Your companions are here," she said when she finally spoke. "Be well, neesama. Niisan."

"You, too, Hanabi," murmured Hinata. "We'll talk when I get back."

Shaking away her bemusement, Hinata fixed a half-smile on her face and turned around to greet the prince and his escorts.

* * *

The blue-grays were now giving way to the morning yellows. The waking world was starting to glow with colors, though with little variety of that. The beginnings of sunrise suffused everything with its soft light and stretched shadows long to the west. That transition from night to day passed fleetingly, and soon the sun's brilliant pate erupted from the uninterrupted horizon.

He had walked with morning's birth like this countless times before. It was wonderful to behold the world like this, when the earth was flat and boundless, when nothing could obstruct the emerging sun, meek still in its youngness and you could almost look straight at it. These dramatic dawns were typical of southern Fire country, yet still he would pause to watch thoughtfully for a few moments every time he could. Laid out before his mythic eyes, the shaved fields that would otherwise seem to go forever did have an end: the place where the earth and sky were one. At the endmost end, where the curve of the planet's surface made it impossible for him to see further, he could see where the firmament collided with the tree-carpeted ground, and the sun was caught in between them, a squashed egg. It was amusing like that---how brief such beauties last, how long such memories lingered in a person's mind, how ubiquitous such romanticized events were in reality---though, of course, he'd never disclose such a thought to anyone.

The plains were cleared for farming, their thick forests hauled off before the remaining vegetation were balded by fire. For generations, farmers had grown rice and other crops here, every so often moving to new fertile areas and abandoning the fallowed land for the forest to reclaim. The farmers, as their ancestors did before them, started their day even before the sun's presence announced its start. Already, Neji and his companions had to share the dirt-pack road with animals and men.

They left Konoha earlier that day at three o'clock, but before that was a scene of note: Hanabi had made her displeasure known to Hinata-sama with a well-sharpened knife. Perhaps, talk was useless in trying to make the heiress realize the gravity of her current situation, but Neji thought Hanabi's method imprudent, what with the hidden eyes always guarding the estate. Neji wasn't surprised that Hanabi believed that the threat to her sister was internal. Hanatarou was disgustingly pathetic.

Of course, Neji didn't think such an arrogant fool was working alone, either. It may very well be an internal matter, that the enemy of Hinata-sama was from Hyuuga itself. However, that didn't negate danger from other sectors of the village---or, for that matter, of the world.

Neji would also start watching Hanabi doubly close.

The formation they followed was relaxed, but it was still a formation. Leading the way was Naruto. As Neji suspected, he had been the person who had introduced this trail to Hinata-sama; apparently, he discovered it during his constant travels with Jiraiya-sama more than five years ago. Behind them were the genin boys. Sometimes, one would break off the group to run forward, and sometimes both would, rolling on the turf to fight out some spurious offense rendered by one or the other. Neji suspected they weren't entirely having some light, wholesome fun when they ventured out front, but were scouting the area, getting a closer look.

Behind the two were Hinata-sama and the prince, eyes bright and interested as the former discussed the native flora and fauna, the more common customs and traditions of the natives, and other such factoids. The Cloud jounin-sensei and the female chuunin strolled close behind them, as attentive as the prince, though less obviously so. That wasn't alarming, for Hinata-sama was prudent enough in her tour-guiding to omit the more sensitive information. Neji brought up the rear.

From up front, the two boys were now debating upon which of them smelled worse than the lumbering ox they just passed by. Naruto spared it a glance, nodding politely at the beast as well as its master, and the wooden cart ambled on. Shinoda Iga, too, bowed in greeting to the driver, who was mannered enough to lift his wide-brimmed hat from his sallow face. Amarillo was content to just watch them pass by, having seen several others of the like since more than an hour earlier.

Neji watched the now shadowed face of the rider, idly gauging the danger the man posed, but as he carefully moved closer to the path of the incoming ox, one of his companions brazenly decided to the ignore the opinion of the team leader.

The tall girl leapt onto the slowly moving cart, even as four kunai flew from her hand. It was obvious then; the man's reflexes were not of a simple farmer. With the riding crop, he narrowly missed his death, batting away the deadly projectile with a flick of his whip. Unfazed, the chuunin was inexorable---the man must have realized that at the split second before a poniard embedded itself between his eyes, for they glazed over with absolute terror. With cool brutality, the child Mai twisted the hilt where it protruded from the man's forehead, the sickening crunch of the skull cracking open audible in the shocked silence. She tugged the slender knife free, carelessly splashing about blood and brain matter. Messy, Neji thought, but passably swift.

Hinata-sama had pulled Amarillo-sama out of Mai's way and still had the royal's arm in a steel grip. Amarillo, sword half out of its scabbard, was open-mouthed with disbelief, his lower jaw twitching as he attempted speech.

The first words were from the two boys.

"Holy," muttered Hib.

"Shit." finished Katsuo.

"Damn right " Naruto added. "He was a very lousy spy, but he's not bad enough to deserve that." He left it at that, not launching into a tirade Neji might have expected from him at other times.

"This," Amarillo was finally able to croak out. "This is a symptom of the troubles plaguing the world. How... How can you all stand there after---- After this This child... this cold-blooded murder..."

"Cold-blooded," Mai agreed calmly. "Murder? Hardly."

True. Whatever he was, he had been poised to attack, but any of them, excepting the Prince, who was surrounded by everybody else anyway, could have countered easily. Needless to say, the appropriate measure would have been to capture this person alive. Like Naruto, Neji kept his peace. Usually, it would be the teamleader's responsibility to admonish a wayward element, but in this case, it was somebody else's position to scold the teenager.

The serene expression on Iga's face was gone now, replaced by a slightly distracted one, as if he was trying to recall something. His eyes were hidden by the fall of his dark hair, but his lips had curled into an ironic smile.

"What seems to be wrong here? Hib? Katsuo?" he asked quietly.

"Secrecy," Hib answered promptly. "The ninja's deed must be executed as if in the most isolated underground cavern. A ninja must not call attention to himself."

"Information gathering," said Katsuo. "One must be wary of blood lust, for hastiness to kill inevitably leads to inordinate waste of resources."

"I hope you're proud of yourself, Mai," murmured Iga peacefully. "You've just shown the elite of Konoha how our Cloud genins operate."

The reprimanded child carefully hung her head. Her sensei's use of the term "genins" was obviously not lost on her.

Neji didn't idly stand by as this exchange passed and was carefully investigating the dead body. Naruto looked over the cart.

The man was of the Fire country, Neji saw immediately, judging from his build and the shape of his face. His skin had an unhealthy yellowish cast, as if he were in the final stages of some liver disease. On his right hand was a dartgun, the loaded arrow smelling rancidly of some common poison. His pot-belly stuck out, and his tongue lolled out sideways. Neji found nothing in his clothes but a mashed up wrapping of glutinous rice and a few tarnished coins.

"Nothing but hay," Naruto said. "Any luck?"

"Aa."

Neji had his advantages, and he never hesitated to wield them when the occasion called for it. His eyes immediately picked out things not commonly found in an ordinary man's dying tissues.

Clinically, he drew a kunai and stuck it on the corpse, the movement breaking barely visible waves in the corpulent expanse of flesh. The blade slid in easily and, as it was neatly drawn across the length of the abdomen, was trailed by blooming rivulets of blood. Neji fished out the stomach (naturally, he knew his anatomy quite well---it was sort of an important skill for assassins of his caliber), ignoring the last few churns of the involuted coils of gut. He sliced open the organ and explored its contents with the blade.

When he raised the kunai to his face, he looked closely at the tidbit of what looked like corn skewered at its tip. But it wasn't corn, his white eyes said, and he saw that the kernels weren't found normally in nature. They were tiny, highly fibrous containers made by man, specifically designed to withstand the digestive process. With the precision of a surgeon, Neji divided one of the seed-like objects with a flick of his wrist.

The tiny puff of sickly-green gas was telling and the remaining pink precipitate coating the interior of the kernel was familiar his eyes and nose.

"So that's what he was," remarked Naruto, nose and forehead wrinkled. Obviously, he found Neji's grisly chore distasteful. "Sick."

"What's going on?" Amarillo asked plaintively.

"The man was going to attack," explained Hinata-sama prompty. "But Mai-san stopped him."

Was he? Neji wasn't entirely convinced the man would risk attacking a group that obviously consisted of ninjas, considering the precious baggage he hid in his viscera. Such a man would expend all resources to remain as unobtrusive as possible.

"They're trying to find out who the man might be," the heiress continued. "And why he tried to attack us and which one of us was his specific target, if he had one."

An adequate explanation, but a misleading one, Neji thought. That the man was hostile towards them wasn't the issue here. Who knew what the real issue was? He carefully kept his thoughtful frown on the body.

"But why did Neji-san have to dismember the cadaver?" demanded Amarillo. "I found the entire exercise repugnant and excessive. Enemy or not, one does not desecrate the dead in such a manner And surely, surely, there are more humane ways of... of... killing people." He blinked at his lame conclusion and became more morose.

"They found something hidden in his flesh," Hinata explained. She didn't join the others as they ogled the gutted corpse.

"A psychosomatic drug of sorts," said Shinoda. "He was smuggling it within his body."

Neji looked at him, noting the Cloud jounin's studied expression in the process. "It appears so," the Hyuuga conceded.

"Hey " Naruto protested as Neji leaned over the cart again. "You're not planning to put that shit in your mouth, are you?"

Neji did just that, transfering a single rose-colored crystal from the tip of the knife to his finger. He sniffed, then delicately touched it to his tongue. "Bitter," he pronounced, spitting out the salt.

"The pink dust," said Naruto. "Looks like the Yakuza are trying their luck in Fire country. I guess that's what happened. That dead dude panicked when he saw we were ninjas."

Ah, the Yakuza. It was easy to attribute it all to the drug-smuggling gangs, but Neji found the minute details of the smuggling uncharacteristic of the local syndicates. The underlings of the Yakuza were usually ignorant, desperate fools trying to make fast cash or trying to elude death. Hiding drugs within bodies was not uncommon, but not exactly efficient. Few people in Fire country could afford these drugs and it wasn't worth the trouble of clashing with the Konoha nins. Unless they were only passing through.

"Of course," Naruto was saying. "Our neighbors, the Sand, are particularly brutal with Yakuza smugglers."

"And what of the body?" asked the prince stubbornly.

"Neji?"

As teamleader, it was his decision to make. The mission at hand was not an in-depth investigation of Yakuza dealings. His duty was to protect his cousin and the incorrigible prince that was courting her. There would be other opportunities to look into the matter.

Neji nodded to the blond jounin.

"Okay." Naruto cupped his hands over his mouth and made a peculiar bird call. Neji had seen him do this before, and automatically he sought the skies for the one-eyed falcon (a bird that Naruto apparently befriended during his travels with the Toad-sennin). The lanky ninja scrawled a note on a piece of paper with a borrowed pen.

"I'm sending it out to the local cops," he informed them. "You know how they complain about us stealing their job."

Soon, Neji sighted the gray speckled bird swooping down from the northwest. The sharp-eyed predator dove straight at the loud mouth jounin who called him, but at the last moment feinted to the right and wheeled back to peck Naruto on the head.

Naruto swore a bit----an expected reaction when one has a full-grown falcon trying to crack ones skull with its beak.

"Your whole stinking family owes me, stupid bird " Naruto bellowed as he swatted at the bird. "Stop that. Stop "

The bird, its single-eye fiercely staring, finally alighted on the jounin's outstretched arm. As Naruto fastened his message on its foot with a wince (the impressive looking talons dug deep into his armguard), Neji absently wondered how the loss of one eye had affected the falcon's hunting. Perhaps, the bird had ways to compensate, he thought, and left it at that. He didn't necessarily have the leisure to examine the creature, for it immediately went its way barely after Naruto finished giving instructions.

"Let's get out of here," Naruto then said. "I'm starving."

"Wait " Amarillo protested, stumbling to where the others were clumped together. "You aren't going to leave the body obscenely lying about, are you?"

"Um, Amarillo-san," Hinata-sama said. Her warning was too half-hearted to do any good, obviously. "I don't think it's a good idea—"

And it wasn't. Amarillo's face turned green, and upon seeing the pseudo-autopsy, he promptly heaved at the roadside.

"'Course not," Naruto said, even as he draped the cart with the canvas that covered it originally. Shinoda meanwhile removed the ox from the harness and tied the animal to the cart, leaving it free to waddle into the muddy fields to chew on some farmer's hard work.

As probably the others are doing, Neji carefully assessed his surroundings and found nothing amiss. Travelers dotted the road they were in, some aboard wheeled contraptions being pulled by animals, like that person they were about to leave behind. The fields too were now more or less thoroughly populated by workers, busy in some parts with harvesting. Nothing indicated that the dead man had companions in the immediate vicinity. That was not to say there wasn't going to be some repercussions, and it was foolish to stand around conspicuously the way they were doing.

Iga, Naruto, and Hinata-sama were gathered around the haggard-looking prince. Uncharacteristically quiet, the two genins flanked their chunnin teammate a few paces away.

"If I may be so forward, Highness," Iga was pointing out. "This is what you hired us for."

"I realized that," Amarillo sighed pensively. "You must excuse my... naivete. I fear, I was not exactly prepared to encounter reality to such a degree."

"Buck up, man." Naruto said, clapping the man's back. "You're alive and kicking—it means you're having a good day so far. And this part of reality isn't exactly your territory, you know. Ninja stuff and all that. That's our life."

"I wasn't concerned about my life." Amarillo sighed again. "But to see a child... have to do such a thing."

"I understand," said Iga kindly. "Our childhoods do seem truncated to outsiders. The good thing is that many of us have developed a more attuned appreciation of life."

"And its brevity, I suppose."

"And its brevity." Iga chuckled, scratching behind his ear sheepishly.

It was all very well and good to psychologically support clients after harrowing experiences; they tended to be burdensome otherwise. Neji himself wouldn't necessarily choose to do it in the middle of a slapdash highway, however. He spoke then, "We have to move."

"Yeah," Naruto agreed, looking up at the fully-risen sun. "We've lost lots of time."

"Oh yes," agreed Iga. "And there are other reasons."

"Huh?"

Hinata-sama coughed. "We... are kinda in the way," she pointed out.

As they resumed their walk, Naruto continued to talk with Amarillo.

"You know what pink dust is, prince?" Though the man used the word "prince," Neji had no doubt it was used more as a place holder, a job title of sorts. Naruto had probably forgotten the other's name already, being too hard to pronounce.

"Anyway," Naruto was saying. "It has weird effects when you sniff it. You feel like... like you've eaten a hundred bowls of ramen."

A novel way of describing the experience.

"Oh," remarked Amarillo politely. "That must be an awful sensation indeed."

"No, no. The awful part comes when you run out of the stuff. You get all whoozy and depressed and sick. You'll do anything to get your hands on more."

"Naruto-kun, you sound like you've experienced it first hand," said Hinata.

"Ahahaha... Not really."

"I've heard of this phenomenon," said Amarillo with a speculative look. "This addiction to the abuse of substances."

"Yeah, I thought so. Pink dust's hot in the black market." Naruto squinted at the other man. "Hey, do you know how to use that katana?"

"Of course. I've had instructions since age four."

"Great. You'll probably need it once the Yakuza get off their asses and go after ours."

"..."

"Naruto-kun, really Scaring Amarillo-san..."

Neji concentrated on patrolling their rear and contributed little to the ensuing conversation. Interesting, he thought. And he had expected the prince to be excluded by Naruto and Hinata-sama's closeness.

He should have known better.

* * *

As always, it started out as a little quirky ache at his nape. Then, it lengthened into clumps of intermittent throbs; eventually, it seemed like his flesh was being carved into, blades of fire searing a specific design spear-deep into his flesh. The alien chakra boiled his blood, enticed him into a compelling exhilaration, and he felt himself start to change, the cells of his body mutating into battalions of energy warehouses. Beyond that absolute rush of sheer living power that made him feel more alive than ever, his death lingered, now and then brushing against his consciousness with a set deliberateness.

It was always a risk to call upon the unnatural power of the curse seal. Even after Orochimaru's death, it was forever brandished on his neck, forever a disease threatening to devour his body. Utilizing the curse seal meant loosening the layered set of seals meant to suspend its rapid growth. His survival had necessitated it, however.

For a brief moment, after he stood over the fallen body of his enemies, he absently noted the presence of his will to live. He was mildly surprised it was there at all.

And then he quickly discarded the realization. He had to run. He didn't survive an ambush just to die from the very thing that saved him.

An ambush---the notion rankled as he continued to speed towards the village. It seemed more like an incidental skirmish to him. The eight ninjas, an unusual group of missing nins, foolishly attacked him with a haphazard plan, relying heavily on their superior numbers. They were mostly A-class, a couple of S-class warriors---he would have been dead if their main goal was his demise.

Most likely, they detected him first and didn't expect him to detect them. But when he did and proceeded to ruthlessly injure their members, their tactics changed and became highly diversionary. They were able to swiftly escape, except for two, both still lying in the gorge where he had incinerated them. They were going somewhere urgently, and that somewhere was further into Fire country's territory.

He arrived at Konohagakure no Sato and demanded to see the Hokage. It saved time that way, for she was one of the few people willing to take his words at face value. His report to Tsunade was brief, even curt, and she ordered him out briskly, calling out commands to her underlings even before he left her office.

Now he stood in front of _her_ door.

"Oh, good morning, Sasuke-kun."

Even her mother called him that. He nodded to the blonde woman in greeting.

"You're a wreck," she observed his pallid face as she ushered him in. "Upstairs, you go, boy. She's in her room."

Sasuke nodded again, staggered in and up the staircase. He doubted any other mother would so willingly whisk a boy up her nubile daughter's bedroom, but the circumstance in their case was unique. Both of her parents had become used to emergency consultations like this and were actually proud of their daughter.

He met her auburn-haired father halfway up. The man took one look at Sasuke and hollered out to announce him. Sasuke nodded for the third time----considering he could barely keep himself from falling flat on his face, it was all he could do at the moment---and continued on up. Her father's call saved him the effort of having to knock. And he explicitly had to knock; he had seen the effects of negligence of manners on the dobe several times before.

The door flung open, revealing a slender girl in a purple duster. Her green eyes were hard at first, widened slightly in alarm, then hardened again as they swept over him, head to foot.

"Inside," she commanded crisply. Half-supporting and half-dragging, she led him into her bedroom and then into the adjoining bathroom. She deposited him on the tiled floor, stripped him of his shirt, and left him sitting in front of the toilet bowl.

"What stage, Sasuke-kun?" she yelled from outside.

"Two," he croaked.

Sakura came back, wrestling with several vials of varicolored liquids. He could already taste the vile concoctions, already feel the caustic medicine entering his bloodstream. But they were welcomed sensations, he thought, much better than the telling miasma that incapacitated him now, the undeniable sign that heralded his nearing limit, that sign he had learned to equate with impending death and that ultimate corruption of his flesh: fatigued, he would soon cease fighting the growth of the curse seal. He accepted it as one of the prices of revenge, and he didn't really complain.

Not too much, anyway.

As she had done countless times before, Sakura put a needle into his arm and infused an innocent-looking pink solution directly into his blood. Its pathway became aflame with living fire, seemingly burning his insides to cinders, and it was sheer power of will that kept him from howling in agony. She was opening another vein now----one of her own, this time----and crimson began to drip steadily unto the pulsating curse seal. Then, gathering a precisely measured amount of chakra, she began to form a continuous stream of handseals.

Her incantations formed on his skin, concentrically slithering around the accursed spot. He could feel his skin crawl from the invasion, the air sizzle with raw energy. When the chakra reached the level she desired, she released the jutsu.

All her power rushed around him, sheathing him first in a cocoon, then ultimately slamming full force at the single spot on his neck, and horrible on his skin, came the spread of the blood-written incantations throughout his entire body, pattering feet of thousands of insects. The repeating symbols eventually converged around the curse seal, swirling around it with vast velocity, a carefully contained maelstrom of warring powers. And inevitably, hers won against the dead Orochimaru's. The curse seal was bound into dormancy once again, and the awful sensation of his flesh invaginating into itself again and again would stay for days.

When her chakra dissipated, she dosed him with a bitter-tasting glob of gel. She had explained to him before the steps and the reasons for the strict regimen, but he was too tired to recall it right now. He did remember that it would be a few minutes till she gave him a libation of yet another drug.

Sakura wiped sweat off his face. Now that it looked liked he would live, he thought, she was going to start haranguing him.

"I'd better interview you now before the vomiting starts," she said, exhaustion steeping her voice. "What happened?"

He owed her even the sketchiest of explanations, of course, so he grunted and began talking. "I was attacked in the western escarpment near those enormous statues; you know the place. I was outnumbered."

"An ambush? Was it connected to your mission? "No. Incidental skirmish. They weren't supposed to be there, and I found them by accident. They got upset by that."

"I didn't think it was a part of your mission. I thought you just left yesterday afternoon for Sand country."

Checking on him, was she? He glared at her half-heartedly. "I was on my way back. That mission was easy, just delivery of information. The attack was completely unrelated to it."

"Are they dead now?" she asked in an emotionless voice.

He paused for a few moments. "Two of them," he finally said.

"Good," she approved, fierce with satisfaction.

"The others got away."

"Into Fire country, though. Our ninjas would chase them down."

"Maybe. They were going towards the trail to Umeda. What's down there?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is there an important operation there? Escorted VIP?"

"I don't know," she admitted.

"Tsunade seemed disturbed by my news."

"Or she was disturbed you went to her first in your state." She shook her head. "If other people find out that the curse seal is still—"

"I don't care about other people."

"That's not even the point," she said bitterly. "Sasuke-kun, I can't do this all the time. If the curse-seal's too fargone, I won't be able to do anything to help you."

He looked at her levelly with drug-dilated eyes. "You'll teach someone else to do it. Eventually."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said lightly and glanced down at her watch. She reached for another vial, this time a greenish-blue one. "Are you ready, Sasuke-kun?"

Without waiting for an answer, she poured the sweet syrup down his throat with casual viciousness. He gagged slightly, but determinedly swallowed it all.

In a few minutes, Sasuke was busy at the toilet bowl. His stomach was twisted unto itself several times in a vise-like grip, and his attention was riveted by all the throwing up he was doing. Vaguely, he could hear Sakura murmuring to him and feel her hand rubbing his back, steadfast and professional.

00:24 072605

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Notes:

Ever since I started writing Naruto fics, I've always been confused by the name of the countries in the Naruto world. Various manga scanlations, anime subbers, and the Viz translation all say different things about it. Konohogakure no Sato is in Fire country, and that seems to be reliable information so I'll consistently refer to the country as such. I read somewhere that the Hidden Village of the Sand is in Wind country, but in this fic I'll refer to it as Sand country. (And the country of the Mist nins as Mist country, the country of the Cloud nins as Cloud country, etc.)

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More notes:

Gahahah. Sunergos is back. (sweatdrop)

Anyway, thanks for reading this installment and the previous one: ). Lira-chan, I'm glad you found your way to this story; I didn't know you read/watch Naruto. Shall gladly receive your input.

I'm flattered, Ori, that you were inspired by Undertowed. Yeah, Sakura's parents never appear and I'm really interested to see if they're like her prim and proper self or her crazy inner self. About your question, I re-read that part in chapter 6 and thought it was confusing. LOL. The Uchiha would ask the head of the woman's clan, regardless of the person's gender. It just so happened that his mother (in this fic at least) is the last member of her clan. (Poor Sasuke. The last member of two clans in this fic. )Her brother was supposed to be the current head, but he died a few days before. So, in this case, the woman had no family, so he asked her himself. Oh, and question away. I love questions because they help me think about the story in angles I might not have noticed or may have forgotten about.

Hujin, I'm glad you like Neji's character. And thanks too for your comment on the plot—the danger in a non-linear plot is sometimes you forget things. Hehe. (sweatdrop) Lee will come, sooner or later. On Sasuke, hmm... But he does tend to have a one-track mind in the series, don't you think? XD Anyway, I'll keep that in mind and be more careful with Sasuke's characterization.

As always, your comments give me something to think about, Neptune, as well as provide a reliable mirror of sorts to see if things are working out so far. I didn't expect the Hiashi scene to come out intense, but I'm glad it did. I'm getting more concrete ideas on future Hyuuga-Uchiha dealings, thanks to your comment. It gave me direction. Oh, the Melon bread _was_ from Yakitate Japan! I follow the manga, see, and I love it. In fact, Sasuke baking thing was probably due to Yakitate Japan, too. And Lee's raves about the cookies. (BTW, I've never heard of melon bread before either, though I have eaten _bitter_melon filled pastry.) Wai, I enjoy Neji and Tenten. Tenten is an obscure character for me, so I'm glad she's turning out well. Thanks for commenting on their interaction. XD I was afraid the barrage of "technical" ninja information would be boring, so I'm glad their bantering offset that. Oh, and that comment on theme of comfort. I take it as a big compliment. I kinda thought Kishimoto himself is big on that theme in the series, but I've never really noted it on Sunergos. Wow.

Enough of my ramblings. (stares at loooong "notes" and "more notes.") Thanks again for the comments. Till next chapter.


	9. Chapter 8: The Excursion I

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, etc. Borrowing for the purposes of entertainment, procrastination, and basically, escapism.

Chapter 8: The Excursion I

The water sparkled under the winding day, its crystal clarity seemingly home to a multitude of yellow-stained diamonds. It flowed from the peaks of the Sleeping Mother, the petite mountain chain in southeastern Fire country. Eventually finding its way into one of such streams in its foothills, it was this water that fed the Chanting Falls, leaping down from a modest height of 300 feet and into a wide basin nestled among both ancient and young trees on the southwestern side of the Knees, the smallest mountain of the range.

At the very thickness of these slim silent towers, once upon a time, a princess and her entourage came for a picnic. She was an in-between sort of princess---not so pretty but not so ugly, not so tall but not so short. She wasn't a particularly disagreeable person, but she got unlucky. Alcohol was involved in the little party, and she had probably gulped down a little too much and had wandered away. Apparently, some wood kami took offense at her intoxicated blathering and turned her into a spring on the mountainside, that same one people now call Chanting Falls, where she continued to babble to this day. Of course, people didn't think Babbling Falls as elegant as Chanting Falls, thus the name change. Or so Naruto thought when a cantankerous old fisherman told him of that local legend.

Chanting Falls was breathtaking not because it was grand and imposing----which it actually wasn't, being a little lopsided. It had a simple beauty that caught ones breath. See, this area of Fire country was famous enough for its idyllic scenes, but it wasn't necessarily well-visited; it was a rocky sort of place, the terrain unexpectedly sliding into steep slopes, and even sheer drops, here and there. Naruto supposed it wasn't as steep or sheer as those crags, mountains, and gorges at Rock Country, Cloud, Sand, or even Mist country, but that didn't really matter to those who ended up at the bottom, broken in several places. The simple beauty of the Chanting Falls came from the fact that it was actually made out of several falls. What used to be a near-vertical slope of the Knee's rockface was now ornately carved by the eons of rushing, dripping, freezing, and thawing of water. The stream skipped from at least three outcroppings; by the time the water reached the foot of the drop, the force of its descent was softened enough not to grind its visitors to pieces. There was even a natural cavern at the topmost of these outcroppings, a tiny and usually damp place that Naruto had to sleep in once when he was caught in a vicious typhoon, invisible from the outside. Shrubs and even the more limber trees grew as close as possible to the springwater, their boughs intricately twisting to catch sunlight, tenaciously digging into the rock and packed earth for nutrients.

Naruto, breathing deeply the clean crisp air, was glad to be there.

When Naruto was briefed yesterday evening, he was told that the mission was more in nature of a guided tour than a bodyguarding one. He figured he was qualified for the job since he had experience as a part-time wanderer. Hinata-chan's visitor had his own bodyguards, a genin team and their sensei. Hinata herself was here as a civilian, as Naruto found out when he puzzled aloud over her attire. Along with her came Neji.

The mission started off fine. Prince Amarillo was wide-awake at 3 in the morning, as perky as the early-rising rooster, and the ensuing hike didn't dampen his mood at all. At first, he spoke in whispers, enthusiastically sharing how excited he was, how free and adventurous he felt, but the farther they went from the Konoha gates, the louder his exclamations became.

The only remarkable thing that morning was that run-in with the smuggler on the road to Umeda.

Naruto knew the man had been nervous, had been ready to attack had anyone confronted him. He didn't think the man would move at all, but he had still been tempted to investigate. (The man _was_ being suspicious.) He decided to let the teamleader decide what to do; it was never nice to get insubordination charges.

Neji had probably wanted to investigate, too, thought Naruto. That would have been easy. The ANBU would have tried to strike up a conversation about some mundane thing, or something similarly inconspicuous. If the guy didn't cooperate, a hidden kunai or some choice threats would have made him stay.

Now before Neji could decide about that, the guy was already dead. Maybe the man was going to attack, but the Cloud girl beat him to it. Naruto didn't really say much about it, but he disliked random killings like that. The man was up to no good, true, but they didn't even know what that no good thing was.

But that aside, the girl interested Naruto, as well. She had acted rashly, and judging from the reaction of her teammates, she didn't do so often. Her reason was obscure, something to do with some conflict with her teammates or even her teacher, but her expression, which she carefully kept hidden, had been a curious mixture of self-righteousness and gnawing shame. Naruto'd been through that sort of thing. How many years had he spent trying to prove himself? Prove that he's better than Sasuke?

Amarillo had been shocked by that casual killing. He looked like a ghost and became violently sick, but he actually insisted that the dead guy be buried. Naruto was impressed by that. And that was when Naruto became chatty with him. The prince really reminded him of somebody, but he just couldn't remember who...

Anyway, Prince Amarillo was a nice fellow. He had eyebrows as thick as Lee's, but Amarillo's were more evil-looking, looking like they're ready to pop out and start munching on people's fingers. He was a fun guy who talked a little weirdly and asked a lot of questions, but Naruto enjoyed being his companion.

The rest of the walk to the town of Umeda was uneventful. Amarillo gradually relaxed and became more like his talkative self. Mai, however, wasn't so quick to revert back to normal. Her sardonic remarks were absent during the whole trip. Impassively, she acknowledged her teammates' friendly overtures, but she remained reticent. Maybe she just didn't take well to failing. Or maybe Iga didn't.

Iga was okay. He was mostly quiet, politely staying in the background. However, once Naruto got him going, broke the ice a little, Iga could get a little chatty, too. And that's how Naruto found out the Clound nin liked ramen as much as he did.

Umeda was the sort of town that always had a few visitors hanging around. It was regarded as the gateway to the Sleeping Mother, for several trails winding on to the mountains started there. It was easy to get lost up there; the man-made trails were easy to confuse with those of the various animals moving about. Adventurers, miners, hunters, and some of the usual never-do-gooders passed by Umeda to buy supplies. Occasionally, some people bartered trinkets for dumpy-looking maps. Some even paid for guides, something Naruto wouldn't necessarily advise others to do. But all in all, Umeda was a good place to get information, be it the ordinary kind or the ninja kind.

It was also a good place for ramen. Naruto never figured out why he loved Umeda's special ramen----or he did once and had already forgotten----but it had a certain flavor unique to those parts. It probably had something to do with the secret blend of herbs and spices gathered from the extensive forests surrounding the town.

That was when Iga began being talkative.

"Ramen's also my favorite food," said the Cloud nin. "While I was growing up, we practically lived on it. My siblings got pretty sick of it, but not me. I guess, that's why I had a pretty happy childhood in spite of things."

"You eat ramen everyday?" Naruto said. "So do I!"

"Well, I certainly wish I could, but no." Iga laughed. "I don't control the kitchen, see. We usually have other types of grain available, not just rye."

"Rye?"

"One of our staple crops is rye. It grows well in high altitude and it doesn't mind the bad weather we have up at Cloud country that much."

"But you do."

Iga smiled sheepishly. "I hate snow," he admitted.

"And you get lots of it in Cloud, just like in Mist country," said Naruto. "So you use rye to make the noodles?"

"Yes. We also grow wheat, and we mix that with the rye. Rye isn't really that great tasting by itself when you're talking about ramen. And bread, too, actually."

"But we're mostly interested with ramen anyway," said Naruto fervently. "I'd definitely swing by Kunigakure no Sato the next time I'm in Cloud country."

"Look me up, Naruto-san," urged Iga. "I'll show you to the best stall."

"Yeah right, sensei," said the funny-haired boy, whose name was... Hib? "As if Naruto-san needs to travel to that infernal ice hole to get ripped off."

"Don't say that," protested his sensei lamely. Then, he turned to the others to explain. "It's a custom in our village for the guest to pay for the expenses of the host, as long as the guest resided under the host's roof. Of course, that applies only to the people of the Cloud who are familiar to that custom. I'm not as shameless as my student here makes me out to be." He glanced witheringly at the boy.

"Not entirely shameless," corrected Katsuo. "He wouldn't bring his belt bag along to filch food the way he usually does."

"Last time, I think he brought a duffel bag," said Hib. "Remember that mission with the one-legged engineer?"

"As you can see, I am not exactly their favorite." Iga sighed.

"Not exactly true either," Katsuo assured. "We do like you, sensei, even though you make us sleep in sewers because you're too crusty to pay for inns."

"Yeah," chimed in Hib. "You're a favorite, sensei. Like a toy."

"Speaking of toys, invite Baby Mai, as well, when you eat out with sensei, Naruto-san. She tries to chew on us whenever he's out of sight. I think she's teething."

"So take all of us! We'll keep her out of your hair while you slurp down noodles."

Naruto chuckled. "I hate to break it to you guys," he said ruefully. "But I'm kinda broke."

"Huh?" said Hinata. "But you've just been promoted."

"Yeah, but I owe Sasuke a lot of money right now. I kinda broke his kitchen."

Amarillo looked at him curiously. "May I ask how one breaks a kitchen exactly?" he asked.

"With chopsticks," answered the jounin with aplomb. "And a broken watch."

"I didn't follow that."

So Naruto recounted the night of his past birthday and his misadventures in the Uchiha kitchen.

After shooing off various hiking-gear hawkers and wanna-be forest guides, Naruto led them to a wayside hiking trail that didn't really look that different from the rest of the woods. Anyway, the trek started off like a walk in the park, even with all the brambles here and there, the thick bushes covering the forest floor, and the occasional burrows and holes. Gradually, the level ground became increasingly steep and rocky. The trees weren't stout enough to travel on like around Konohagakure no Sato, but instead were sinuous slender things that were entangled with various vines. The also had to slow down for Amarillo so they had to pick their way through it all, instead of just flitting about. It was exhilarating exercise.

Amarillo was a nice surprise to Naruto. He managed to keep up and even had breath to acclaim one natural wonder or another. He found the trees and the fungi growing on them fascinating. The cacophony of bird calls was sweet. He asked about rock types and the name of that adorable kitten with that luxuriant golden coat—wow, what teeth!

In fact, his only problem was that he seemed to have an affinity with animals—the fanged ones. Naruto didn't like killing wildcats (and panthers and bears and warthogs), since they're mostly sleeping in the morning anyway, and he never found any of them particularly good tasting. (Plus, their meat was sinewy and hard to chew.) He sort of accidentally had to slice up one that tried to hamstring the wide-eyed prince. He wasn't sorry about skewering that boa constrictor, though—multiple encounters with Orochimaru as a kid did do things to your head.

As they neared the waterfalls, their path became rockier, steeper, and most of all wetter. Amarillo did know a thing or two about rock climbing—he was a prince of Rock country—but what he wasn't used to was moss. They grew everywhere in those parts, coating nearly every surface like carpet. It made balancing pretty challenging for laymen, but the prince kept on without a single complaint. He was red and puffy, but there was a lot of water around anyway. They passed by quite a few mountain streams and though it was autumn, Amarillo wasn't the only one who dunked himself into each pebbly rush (or trickle. The prince garnered a glistening souvenir on his forehead at one particularly stony brook.)

They arrived at about four in the afternoon. They set up camp at the banks of the pool fed by the falls and were more or less lazing about now. Neji had just gotten back from scouting and was puttering about their campsite, putting things in order, maybe counting firewood—who knew? Naruto and the prince were sprawled under a tree, watching the two genins teach Hinata how to play a traditional Cloud game. The girl Mai wordlessly sat a ways from the shade, her bare feet in the water.

"You have known the lady long, have you, Naruto-san?" Amarillo said suddenly.

"Yeah," answered the other. "Why?"

"It seems you and Hinata-hime are quite close."

"Hinata-hime? I've never heard that one before." Naruto scratched his chin. "We went to the Academy together but we didn't really become friends till much later."

"But you've known her since childhood?"

"I guess."

"Has she always been like that?"

"Like what?"

"A contradiction?"

Naruto sat up, frowning. "Contradiction?"

"She's cold, but not entirely. Her bearing is haughty and yet her words humble. She's calm and unaffected, but there are moments her passion comes through."

The ninja paused to mull that over. He thought he probably knew what Amarillo was talking about. "Sometimes, Hinata-chan doesn't give herself the respect she deserves," he finally answered.

"I don't understand."

"Yeah? It's hard to explain." Naruto lay back down. It was hard to explain. It's just how he knew Hinata---a little jumbled up inside. She was fixing it, he knew, and that was always something he admired about her.

"I comprehend your meaning, though incompletely. I suppose, she is also circumscribed by courtly manners, as I am. Ironic. I have always equated ninja with absolute freedom. Is she as strong as they say she is?"

The blond young man was puzzled again. "Hinata-chan is strong. She has a different sort of strongness than what many people admire."

"More limber than stout?"

"Uh..." More limber than stout? Like a tree? Naruto squinted at the prince, but the latter was staring off in space.

"Yes, yes." Amarillo was deep in thought. "I thought so."

Naruto shook his head. Weird or not, he was going to keep his answers honest but as non-committal as possible. Amarillo was just curious and basically harmless, but still...

"She is a very important person, isn't she?"

What was with all these questions? Naruto answered anyway. "In her family, she is. The Hyuuga heiress."

"She will make a fine queen."

Startled, Naruto suddenly remembered the purpose of the other man's visit to Konoha. "Oh, yeah, you're courting her."

The prince nodded.

"So that's why you're asking all these weird questions," accused Naruto.

"My apologies." The prince bowed low. "My eagerness to know the lady better has usurped my manners. One must know one's future wife, as well as be ingratiated with her friends."

Naruto practically goggled at him. "Wow. You sound really sure of yourself."

"One has reasons for optimism." Amarillo grinned boyishly. "Not that I trust so much in hearsay, but I have heard stories of Hinata-hime being likened to the Yuki-onna."

"The snow lady? The ghost who sucks out people's life force?" Naruto guffawed. "Hinata-chan?"

"We are of the same mind." Amarillo laughed as well. "I have taken it as a sign of favor, her thawing. She's actually a gentle soul, isn't she?"

"Hinata-chan's very nice." Naruto settled with the answer, not sure what the other man was getting at.

"So I have observed. Royalty tends to gravitate toward the placid and submissive brides of strong political families. She fits one out of three."

"Hmmm..." Naruto was starting to doze off.

"A lot of people will miss her if I take her away, correct?"

"Naturally." Only a little bit of blue was peeking out from under the jounin's lashes. He was currently debating about which flavor of instant ramen he should cook, the pork or the super hot-and-spicy seafood one.

"Your birthday was celebrated the other day?"

Definitely the seafood flavor. It's like having a bonfire in your mouth, but that's why there's a pond full of water beside them for all to share. It'll be good with fish. "Yeah, 'twas my birthday."

"She was there."

"Of course, she was," he affirmed. Now, what should they do with the fish?

"It'll be most unfair then," Amarillo murmured to himself. "She is most appealing all the same, outwardly. Not the beauty of legends, surely, but a beauty nonetheless. Truly, she is a conundrum that demands exploration." He sighed. "The bane of over-analytic people."

Maybe they could just fry the fish. It's very pleasant to pull them out of the water, clean them fast, and have them floating in oil a few minutes later. He loved picking out the skin and even the fins, when the fish has been fried to paper crispiness.

"It's not just her gentle face and manners that appeal to me. Her eyes are mystifying as well. The proportions of her body are quite admirable. Not bone-thin and willowy as the ladies I have always been presented, but fleshy and rather curvaceous---"

Or they could stew the fish with the ramen. It's not exactly from the sea, the fish, but still... These fish you get around here weighed at least five pounds apiece and measured up to a foot and a half. They were chubby, silver things. They looked like ordinary fish, the sort of fish you think of when you think of edible fish, but they definitely didn't taste ordinary. Their flesh were very, very tasty, and they'll infuse the ramen's broth with the stream's flavor. Naruto's mouth watered at the thought.

"—good sturdy ankles she have, womanly but strong-looking. And those calves are well-developed. Must be all those leaping you ninjas are involved in. Oh, and her skin is really very pale, isn't it? Her face and arms are a little bronzed by the sun, but she looks like a ghost underneath her clothes. Gorgeous fabric, by the way, that dress. Light plays upon it most seemly and it clings to her body in the right places---"

Nah. Skewer the fish and just put in on the open fire. It's the easiest way to do it. Besides, it's fun to pick on your fish-in-a-stick once it cooled down a bit. And once you remove the burned skin and get to the juicy inside, oh man! You'll definitely swoon.

"—specifically enhances the shape of her derriere and hips. A voluptuous woman, she's born to bear children. Great shall be her progeny. Her generous bosom shall give suckle to healthy babes, and she shall bloom with motherhood, her pale cheeks blushing like a rain-soaked dawn, her mystic eyes shining. And she'll cradle each in her round arms and lay them against her breasts. And—"

Naruto roused at the word, "breasts." What was this guy talking about?

"---softer than softest down, the curves of pomegranates only Mother Nature could render—"

The blond young man frowned at Hinata's direction. She was wearing a lavender calf-length dress that was now quite soaked; the boys were wrestling in the water and she was standing by getting splashed, her arms outstretched over her head as she tied her damp hair back, which in turn naturally drew Naruto's eyes over her most prominent features, being her... well, her boobs.

Hell.

Viciously, Naruto turned on the prince and barked out, "Hey, pervert! We're not yet that close, dammit. Fantasize elsewhere, geeze, you're like my sensei. And my shishou..." He shuddered affectedly.

Amarillo's face was serious as he listened to this. "Ah, but perversion is in the mindset," he said, mildly chiding. "I am but detailing the notable and admirable assets of the lady. If it offends you, then the perversion, I am afraid, is of your own conjuring."

Naruto flushed. He wasn't an innocent; don't get him wrong. He has been sneaking into porn shops since age ten and has spent more than three years with Jiraiya the toad-senin, writer of erotica and a self-proclaimed open pervert. Besides, he has 137 versions of Sexy no Jutsu and Oiran no jutsu combined under his belt. Also, he has invented at least 14 types of perverted jutsu, each with at least five versions. Still, Hinata-chan was Hinata-chan. It was wrong!

"Deny my words, if you can," Amarillo was saying. "Tell me her breasts have not a lush, well-roundedness, and I shall call you a liar. Deny the appeal of this woman's attributes, and I shall call your honor to heel for such an audacious falsehood. I am simply describing anatomical parts. Why must the art that is the human body always be equated with sex and the lewd and the–—"

At that point, Naruto just took off at a dead run.

* * *

Enfolded in the earth's bosom, the sun adamantly kept illuminating the world with its pate, the only part that still stuck out. Above the trees, the sky still glowed a sullen orange, but elsewhere, the preparations for the coming night went underway. Nocturnal animals were stirring now, about to embark on hunting, whatever it was they did first to start their day. 

Hinata, still damp from frolicking with the others in the water, was squatted in their camp, kindling the fire. Serenity made her heart light and the shivers brought by the occasional cool breeze was pleasant. The mission was like a sorely needed vacation—technically, it was one for her. Slightly surprised, she realized that she didn't mind as much as she had when first embarking for the hike.

From the water and to pebbly bank, the voices of the others floated atop discordant splashes and the steady undertone of the flowing stream. Iga-san was teaching Amarillo-san how to fish. Earlier, they constructed simple rods using strong slender sticks picked out from among the firewood and the coil of string from the Cloud sensei's pack. Right now, the prince didn't sound like he was having the sort of luck he'd have wanted. Apparently, his line had snapped for the third time.

"I will take a bath now," Mai announced.

Several people turned to the chuunin, who was standing by the water. She had barely spoken since early that morning, and Hinata couldn't blame her, whatever her reasons were for killing the cart driver.

"Why?" asked her team mate, Katsuo, rather bluntly.

"I'm filthy," answered the other. "And so are you."

"Hey, I was in the water for more than an hour, so _you're_ filthy by yourself."

"My underwear has blood in it."

The irrepressible Hib replied to this. "Yeah, right," he said skeptically. "You did that yellow fatty so good a while ago, you didn't even get splashed by his filthy innards, babe. Come on! You don't have to make excuses for your stupid girly habits like taking baths too much and—oh."

Mai smirked at him. "I didn't think you wanted that much detail about my life. Now, get off my face."

The boy swore under his breath but moved away from his teammate. Mai, however, remained where she was expectantly.

Finally, she spoke again, her tone grating. "Do I have your permission, sensei?"

"Yes," her teacher answered as he flicked his fishing pole. Then he turned to smile at the Hyuuga heiress. "Perhaps, Hinata-sama would like to join you."

Hinata hesitated, not wanting to get caught in whatever was going on with the two. "I'm afraid I—"

"I'm going to have to insist," Mai said coldly.

"Oh, all right then," Hinata conceded. "I know the perfect place."

When they reached the little alcove of closely knit trees hugging a small pool of water, twilight had already overtaken them. There was precious few of daylight left, and what gave them scant illumination was their firelight glowing from a distance, through the clumps of small bushes giving them their privacy. Hinata had bathed here before. Overhead, the canopy opened to the sky, and she knew when the moon was full, it's light fingered the still surface of the water.

They were silent for the most part.

"I know you're dying to ask," Mai said crisply. "Just do it."

Hinata started. She actually wasn't dying to ask anything—not Mai, anyway. Her thoughts were on her sister, Hanabi, whom she was dying to ask several questions, particularly about why she threatened her elder with a kunai. That excuse sounded a little pathetic, however, even for Hinata. "Are, uh, are you feeling better now?"

"That's assuming my mood deteriorated in the first place," said the teenager evasively.

"You appeared upset about this morning to me," Hinata said honestly.

"Maybe I was."

"You didn't like disappointing your sensei?"

"Sensei is a fool," the girl snapped viciously. Then, her expression softened. "But, no, I don't like disappointing sensei."

"I usually feel better when I say it aloud like that," offered Hinata gently.

"Yes," the girl admitted. "But I'm still not sorry about killing that vermin."

* * *

Hinata-sama had barely disappeared from sight when Neji caught Naruto's eyes. The blond jounin quickly got his meaning and casually reclined under the tree the Hyuuga was standing in. 

"Finished with the boobs?"

"Aa. Standard triggered tags. They can be circumvented."

"Seen anything out of the ordinary so far?"

"No."

"Neither did I. You think somebody will come?"

"Yes. The dead man a while ago died for a reason."

"Are you saying _they_ have something to do with this?" Neji could hear the frown in the other's voice. 'They' referred to the Cloud nins.

"We will find out." They would keep their eyes open, naturally. It didn't even need to be said that both of them had been on their toes from the beginning. "Our defenses must be sound."

"Right. Hinata had instructions?"

"Unnecessary. She is a civilian in this operation."

"Why?" Naruto sat up. "She'd still need information."

"Which is why you're with her."

"What?" The younger man's voice rose slightly. "Are you pushing this job to me just because I used to peek at women in the baths?"

Neji's eyes narrowed. Sometimes, dealing with Naruto was exasperating. His inferences and conclusions, to say the least, sometimes didn't follow.

"It's like you're too honorable to do perverted stuff on your cousin, right? And it's perfectly all right if it's me."

He was amazingly idiotic sometimes, Neji conceded. Whatever Naruto had accomplished in the past, he was still a fool at the most inconvenient moments.

"Guess what? No," Naruto declared adamantly. "I'm not going to watch Hinata-chan take a bath."

"I did not say you watch her take a bath," Neji finally retorted.

Naruto's face became serious. "It's the same thing. Neji, she's a jounin-level ninja. Just because your clan banned her from wearing a flak jacket, doesn't mean she left her instincts home, too."

"That was an order."

"You're her bodyguard; I'm not. I don't think she needs you, but what the hell about what I think? Watch her, if you want."

Neji gritted his teeth as the other man moved away. Naruto was right about Hinata being competent enough to protect herself. That wasn't the issue here. Of course, Neji knew the chances of Hinata getting attacked was close to nil. Even so, his job assignment of protecting Hinata superceded his assignment of protecting the prince and his bodyguards. Being team leader allowed him to delegate. Putting Naruto on guard over Hinata stemmed from a simple reason: it freed him to function as the leader, enabled him to move around more.

Meanwhile, Naruto had waded into the pond.

"Hey, I'm helping you guys with the fishing, 'kay?" he said. "Kinda getting hungry here."

"Would you like to use my pole, Naruto-san?" the prince offered ruefully. "My proficiency with the device doesn't seem to be improving much."

"Nah. I'm using my hands." Naruto dove into the water, easily catching an arm-long fish by the tail. "See?" He said as he emerged, coughing.

Shinoda Iga laughed. "That's much faster all right," he said. "I don't think you need me here then."

"Naruto-san, can you teach me?" asked the Prince. "Please?"

"Well... Just, uh, watch the fish and dive for it," answered Naruto.

"He makes it sound so easy, doesn't he?" quipped Iga.

"Indeed,"Amarillo said fervently. He was sloshing about in the water now, as well.

"I think the requirements of this style still involves persistence." Iga began walking back to the fire side. "I'm leaving you two to do the fishing, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Naruto was busy. "Hey, prince. Get that bucket ready."

Neji gestured to Iga. Necessity decided for him. Perhaps, in the long run it would be better this way, with Naruto staying with the Prince. He and the Cloud jounin could patrol the perimeter of their camp while Naruto and the genins guarded the prince, and Hinata-sama was away from the most probable target; he and Iga were of comparable level, so the possibility of betrayal didn't faze him.

The Cloud nin knew what he wanted.

"Patrolling the area?" Iga verified, all the same.

"Aa," said Neji.

And they disappeared in the way of the ninjas.

"Oh, Naruto-san! That fish was... that was titanic!"

"Hib, dude, did you see that fish?"

"Yo, Prince. Help me out here. Hey! Uhm, Hib, uh, will you see if Prince's okay? I think he bumped that rock a little too hard..."

"Katsuo, dude, get the cooking stuff ready! Amarillo-sama, I'm coming. Hey, stop swallowing water, dude! Amarillo-sama!"

And so it was. Hinata and Mai were in the baths, the fish were sizzling in the fire, and Neji and Iga were in patrol when they were attacked.

2:16 091805

* * *

Notes: 

Yes, this was finished almost a month ago, it's mostly character development, and it ends with a pseudo-cliffhanger. (ducks flying refuse) But it's not that bad a pseudo-cliffhanger, is it? As Nema said, the newcomers are the nins Sasuke had a run-in earlier.

So Nema, figurechan, Nova Alexandria, everybody I'm glad you enjoyed the previous chapter and hope this one was fun, too.

Ori and Emeraleyes, I'm glad you liked the Naruto-Hinata interactions. For some reason, their characters are hard to really grasp for me. Yes, Neptune, Naruto is amazingly hard to devlop, so I'm glad you liked him. Emeraleyes, I'm glad you find the plot intriguing; it has only begun, I'm afraid. And yes, Ori, life does take toll. .

The Sasuke and Sakura interaction was an unplanned scene that just happened, Neptune and Ori. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I do like aging Sakura, Neptune. There's been a lot of growth in the series itself with regards to Sakura's character, and I thought she'd do just fine if she keeps up the learning and growing she's going through in canon, and that makes it easier for me to project her as a more mature person. The resealing scene was based on Kakashi's technique; I'm glad you liked it.

Yes, Emeraleyes and Neptune. Much love to Neji. XD

What else? Ah, the issue of pairings. Tank, I modified the teaser but did not add the pairing tags (btw, thanks for commenting on my other fics. Glad you liked them). My reason for that is, as Neptune commented previously, I have plans for the monstrous love polygon between Amarillo, Hinata, Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke, and who-knows-who. So Waffles01, I would again side-step the issue of pairings, as I have been doing from the start. (ducks more tomatoes) Another reason is the same reason why I didn't put this fic under the romance genre. I would find it restrictive to write with a pairing tag or a romance tag, simply because I think romance demands a certain something I cannot consistently produce in each chapter. (Did that even make sense?) I'd rather people were interested in the story itself and see pairings in the fic themselves, rather than read get hopes up by reading tags and then saying, "I thought this was something-something ship" just because I didn't write the pairing's scenes romantically enough, satisfyingly enough. (And well, it has happened to me in the past.) I'm so very happy with the people reading and commenting on this story; I'm sure they all have particular reasons why they follow the fic, and whatever those reasons are, I'm simply glad they do read, and I cherish every word they comment. So, in a nutshell (sorry, for the lengthy explanation), I like the freedom of not having a pairing tag and a romance tag appended to the teaser.

Cowardice? Probably. LOL. Till next time.


	10. Chapter 9: The Excursion II

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, etc. Borrowing for the purposes of entertainment, procrastination, and basically, escapism.

Chapter 9: The Excursion II

The moon that was hanging that night was not so remarkable, as it was neither a sliver nor a perfect whole, neither the vivid yellow of harvesting nor the crimson of an eclipse. It just was, a moon between half and quarter, a moon that trickled a bit of the sun's light to the night-ridden part of the world.

In the dark, movement was best seen in the periphery of one's visual field. Darkness rendered the surroundings into a world of shadows, the varying depths of blackness shaping a vague distinction between, say, a tree and a rock. It was not so peculiar for two ninjas to putter about in the dark, for the small lantern they had on a while ago would have blinded them effectively outside its dingy circle of incandescence. Hinata, as she dried herself and pulled on a somewhat wrinkled but clean shift, could see her companion's movements as the younger girl did the same.

She also saw, even without the aid of the Byakugan, that they were not alone.

It had been a clumsy movement. An animal, surely, was perfectly capable of stirring the translucent thickness of leaves; so could have the elements. But the newborn night was still and at best the wind only murmured disjointed whispers. Ordinarily, there would have been no metallic flash of moonlight riving the darkness under the canopy of trees.

Very carefully, Hinata laid a warning hand on her companion's arm. With practiced stealth, she continued to dry her long hair with her other hand, the one-handed seal hidden by the small towel she used. The chakra she released was a slow whisper; the activation of the Byakugan should have been undetected. Mai caught on quickly and continued to act as if she had noticed nothing, though the sloshing she was making at the shallow end of the pool slowed momentarily.

Hinata maintained her light grip on the younger girl's arm.

Because they had been silent for the most part, their lack of conversation now remained innocuous. Hinata carried on with the subterfuge, scouting her surroundings by sector. Genetics still played an irrefutable role in her ninja career and she had never reached the perfect one-hundred-eighty degree vision obtainable by training to geniuses like her cousin. The Byakugan was still a formidable gift, however, and she had seen all she needed to in one careless jerk of her head, a simple movement to shake damp clumps of hair from her face.

One was crouched atop a tree on her left. Another was behind the bushes that lined the pond on her right. The third was standing in the midst of a particularly thick clump of vegetation behind the girl Mai.

Hinata did not know whether or not the girl had noticed the flash of light reflected from the hitai-ite headband that had given away the presence of the three, but Hinata was sure the girl was blinded from where she stood. Until, that is, the clouds scuttled away from the half moon and allowed its light to shimmer on the water. The ninja on the tree was now standing, lit from head to foot and unconcerned about the fact. Deliberately, mockingly, the ninja brought a finger to his lips in that gesture that requested silence.

Hinata still did not let go of the chuunin's arm. The girl had already proven herself... strong-willed and impulsive. Hinata worried for her safety. Obviously, they were outnumbered, and mostly likely, also outdone in strength.

It was silent, and from afar, she could make out faint firelight from the camp. These invaders knew of the others, but there was no guarantee the others did of the former. Hinata and Mai would have to fight free of the lasso themselves, failing that, raise alarm. Hinata's entire body was relaxed as she returned the mocking look of the enemy with a blank stare, easily striking a neutral pose that she had learned from years of Hyuuga training. From the enemy's viewpoint, she would appear either helpless or very confident.

"We have company, Hinata-sama," Mai said lightly, her smirk seemingly disembodied in the pale luminescence of the moon. The sheen was from the lip balm she had applied in the dark, and Hinata was close enough to smell the apricot scent.

"Yes," the Hyuuga murmured in reply. "Three of them, it seems."

"The kunoichi of Kuni do not tolerate peeping toms. I expect the same from Konoha?"

"Well, some leniency on the young ones..." For some reason, Naruto crossed her mind even as Hinata formulated an escape route in her mind. She choked on her own laughter, but was immediately silenced by a sudden embarrassment she couldn't account for.

"Yes, but this guy doesn't look so young to me," Mai continued. "May I kill this geezer?"

Distracted, Hinata did not answer. There was... something. The something was invading the periphery of her vision. She blinked once to clear her eyes. She deactived the Byakugan, activated it again, doubling the chakra and blood running through the distended vessels on her temples.

Beside her, Mai gasped. Hinata shot a glance at her. The Cloud nin could see it as well, she realized, and was staring in consternation. Without the Byakugan, Hinata saw it as rising mist. With the Byakugan, it was—but Hinata didn't have time to analyze the matter.

A heightened awareness seared through Hinata, a burning warning that came in form of a whiplash that nearly dislocated her shoulder. The chuunin had viciously yanked her arm from the Hyuuga's grasp and was already hurtling towards the only visible stranger. This time, the cacophony of internal alarms in Hinata's head surged for the child.

It was the same frontal attack from this morning. Six kunai were deployed in midair, the successive thuds resounding as they embedded into their mark—no, not human flesh.

Kawarimi no jutsu.

The figure popped like a balloon, as the last kunai connected, the water resuming its shapeless form and drenching the slender tree. The moon illuminated each leaf on that tree, each droplet that littered their surface like rhinestone, and each of the fiercely glinting shurikens that flew for the girl Mai.

The girl crashed to the forest floor, the piece of log that took the bulk of the attack falling beside her. Hinata had already flitted off to block the next attack of the Mist nin, crying a warning as she did, though the other two enemies sat silent and unmoving with their respective shadows.

"Two and nine o'clock!" she reminded Mai and returned to her own work.

It seemed her dance partner for tonight had been decided.

The flowing movements came from her limbs without thought, each block and kick automatic reactions to the enemy's movements. As water had its ways in seeking out the crevices with which it broke boulders, so were the blows Hinata dealt. Her fingers whistled past the powerful punches that rained around her, easily and subtly hitting their mark. It wouldn't take long now.

But Mai. What was Mai doing?

"Maintain your defensive position." The order came to her tongue naturally, too, but she spared no time to marvel at this. "Fifteen paces to your left. You can see him. Act, Mai!"

Past the fist hurtling toward her face, Hinata saw a clear opening to a major neural plexus, a hit that could cause instant death. She feinted and thrust upwards, her chakra-charged palm connecting with the man's chest seamlessly, and she easily whirled away as he spun to roundhouse her in retaliation.

Hinata started. Her fingers were sticky. Behind her, she heard the plop of earth. As she turned, she saw the enemy crumble apart like a clay mound, formerly the clone of the Earth nin still sitting in the bushes.

A swift half turn and the Mist nin, her runaway dance partner, was easily found by her blades, twin silver glints that cut their paths across darkness. Water exploded, and with the scattering diamonds came the spattering of dark rubies. The Byakugan could not differentiate between clone and the real thing, true, but it virtually eliminated the need to know anyway by identifying all targets.

Mai slammed against a tree yet again, but with a straining arm and leg, she caught herself before hitting the floor. Hinata could see the diagonal gash that traversed the partially closed vest. Blood was flowing liberally.

"I will not let you take him!" Mai snarled and dove for the Mist nin's prone body.

Hinata moved to stop the chuunin, but the others had already converged upon her. Reducing them to earth mounds and puddles proved easy, but Hinata was only in time to catch Mai as she fell. Blood spurted on Hinata's face.

Their bath had been wasted.

Amorphous yellow was smothered to a flesh-sieved glow of red-orange. Under his lashes, two tiny slits still gave him a glimpse of the crackling embers, but the light merely added to his sleepiness. He was lulled by the babbling of the waterfall and the murmurings of the other three. The roasting fish, a comforting aroma, gave him a sensation he associated with that of being mothered. Of course, he didn't really have a basis of comparison, having grown up without a mother.

Naruto sat up from his lounge, roused from his doze by a metallic tink. Again, more tiny tinks, like the sound he once made while trying to disengage the little fork things from one another that time Iruka-sensei treated him to an eat-all-you-can crab dinner. The human shriek that followed was easier to identify.

The others stopped talking, but only the babbling of the brook was left at their voices' wake. Amarillo was looking at the two teenagers with bemusement.

"That was Mai," pronounced Katsuo as Naruto crawled to them.

"Yeah, right," said Hib sarcastically. "As if Mai can actually scream like a banshee with all that crap stuck up her---"

"That's the point." Katsuo's dark eyes were all business. "Screams, whether to ask help or to express emotion, never come easily to Mai. We have to investigate."

"And surely our help would be invaluable in case something is amiss," added the prince with a tad too much enthusiasm. "Though I myself failed to hear anything noteworthy..."

Naruto glanced at him dubiously. "You know, when I asked you about knowing how to use that katana a while ago, I was serious."

"I took none of your words lightly, Naruto-san," Amarillo replied fiercely, hand gripping his hilt. "I shall not be a burden to this company."

"I don't know," said Hib warily. "If you die trying to swing that thing around, we'd have to lug your corpse all the way to---"

"Shut up, Hib," said Katsuo mildly. "Naruto-san?"

The jounin punched a fist into his palm as he arrived at a decision. "This is what we'll do," he said. "We will all swim to the bottom of the Chanting Pool."

"The Chanting Pool?" repeated Katsuo. "Why?"

"Yeah," said Hib. "Why is it called the Chanting pool?"

"Will you be serious?"

"But it sounds so lame!"

"I call it the Chanting pool," said Naruto impatiently. "Anyway, behind the swirly area where the waterfall hits the pond, there's a passage. It'll suck us in like a drain, and we'd get spewed out on the other side. There's an extensive cavern there where we can have lots of fun getting lost."

"Fun?" demanded Katsuo. "What about the others?"

"Listen, your mission is to protect the prince, right? We're trusting you to do your job, so trust us to do ours."

"But-! You're leading us, right? What if---"

"Bah, don't worry, kid! There's plenty of me to go around."

Amarillo was rubbing his eyes in disbelief, staring as the puff of smoke cleared.

"Incredible," muttered the prince.

"Okay," said Naruto, very business-like. "I'll be looking for Neji and Iga."

"And I'll be looking for Hinata and Mai," said Naruto.

"Wait a minute!" interrupted Hib. "There's only two of you!"

"That's what I'm saying," said Naruto as if it were obvious. "I'll be looking for the others, while he leads you to the caves."

"No, I won't!" Naruto said angrily. "I'm the one who'll be looking for Neji and the others. You're the one who'll do the slinking in that hole."

"Hey! I'm in charge here right now. Listen and don't be so stubborn!"

"No, you listen to me!"

"Um," ventured Amarillo hesitantly. "I don't think this discussion is necessary, Naruto-san and... Naruto-san."

"Yes, it is. I'm cuter than him, so I'm the one you should listen to."

"Are you hearing yourself, you ass-clown? _I_'m cuter than you!"

"Oh yeah? Who gets more chocolate on Valentines?"

"_You_ don't get any!"

"Exactly, you moron."

Katsuo huffed impatiently. "Just grab one of them," he told the prince.

Amarillo did as he was told, randomly picking from one of the two identically irate blonds standing off.

The unchosen Naruto was gleefully triumphant. "Sucker," he said.

"Slinking in holes?" Hib asked plaintively. "Is that why you don't want to go with us?"

Naruto frowned at him. "Of course I want to go with you guys. You'll get lost down there. Come on."

Stealthily, they proceeded into the water, leaving behind their fish, gear, and camp. As Naruto took a deep breath in preparation for his dive, Naruto jeered at him from the banks.

"I'm getting a fish early, sucker," he declared, triumphantly waving a stick at his waterlogged self. "While you guys wriggle down there like worms."

The wet Naruto, chagrined, swore under his breath, but he recovered and affected nonchalance. "We have the same stomach, idiot."

Naruto stopped midway his second bite on the still-hot fish, nursing a scorched tongue. "But—!" He chomped on the trout's flank vindictively. "I get to taste it. Hah!"

His words fell hollowly; the pond was empty and still, save for the patient repetitive gurgling of the waterfall. And so Naruto did as Naruto, and vanished in the way of the ninjas.

----

Concealment is accomplished in various ways, be it with cheap theatrical tricks or convoluted mind-breaking genjutsu. What one did and did not know—what the enemy did and didn't----took and gave away advantage. Omniscience was one of those legendary attributes pinned on obscure figures of the ninja world, popularized by rumors but never quite known to really exist. It was one that logically, obviously, could not exist.

The Hyuuga were not, as a matter of fact, omniscient. Being all seeing did not make one all knowing, necessarily, and Neji, right now, did not even have the benefit of the former. With his normal eyes, he could see himself and his companion shrouded by some smoky substance. With his charkra-enhanced vision, he was blinded. A multitude of bright points merged into a luminescent wall, a thick fog of stardust hovering midair. Beyond it, Neji could only see glimpses, six or seven ninjas, perhaps. Three were prowling near the campsite's vicinity, four around them. He could glean nothing beyond that. Nothing about the others.

Iga's expression when the fog first emerged was telltale. The Cloudnin did not bother to hide the recognition in his eyes, but neither did he volunteer information. Neji remained silent and motionless; Iga did the same. The mist—fog, smog, whatever it was—was made of dust-sized particles imbibed with chakra, jutsu-made and unnatural. He found his eyes adjusting to it and soon his Byakugan could distinguish the separate shadows that comprised the darkness beyond the translucent curtain of light.

Easiest to detect was movement. The glow of chakra pathways, moving as a man-shaped unit, made it easier to pick out people from the rest of the glow. Naruto, Neji recognized with little difficulty. Following the blond's movement, Neji soon found another unit of shining chakra pathways and was able to decipher the distant events by the sudden blaze and the following dwindling of that body's glow.

The smog began to thin, almost as soon as the invader's chakra winked out of existence. The enemy had died swiftly and soundlessly, and Neji allowed himself satisfaction at this turn of events.

Which didn't last long—soundless was not necessarily inconspicious.

The perfect sweep of the karet, as it headed straight for Naruto, was illuminated by the glow of the particles that now powdered the earth like golden snow. Neji's reaction to it was swift and decisive. That the blade would be true, would connect with his comrade's neck, was of no moment.

For Neji, it was enough that the missing nin's blow yielded an opening. It would provide for the answering vengeance that was merely a matter of course, the honor deserved by a fallen comrade.

Amarillo, fourth of that name in the clan of Fuwa, ancient and esteemable ruling family of the nation of Rock, decided he was suspiciously having too much fun in what his companions had warned him of being exceedingly dangerous. His royal person remained whole and largely unscathed in that interesting escape they had made, surviving through the maelstrom that guarded the entrance to their hideaway.

It was close, wasn't it? For a moment, he even thought he wasn't going to make it! But then, somebody had pulled him to safety. Somebody always did.

Fleetingly, he entertained the thought that these people he was with were actually hired entertainment. And why not? His family has always chastised him for having his head in the clouds after all. Why not saturate him with this adventure nonsense, purge him of the wanderlust, before he was finally and permanently chained to the post of his fathers?

They were wrong, of course. He didn't travel around for no reason. He didn't ask a million question out of sheer insatiable curiosity. There were reasons—always, there were reasons.

He was having a good time, of course, but he never forgot his mission. This was serious business.

Indeed, he was reminded so when they all emerged from the water one man short. An amusing trick, he was about to announce in glee, but the consternation in the faces of the two ninja boys deterred him. The lone lamp they had, Katsuo's, had just been lit (Amarillo wondered how the ninja was able to protect it from the water). Beyond the little sphere of light yawned shadows, barely revealing the environs beyond the studded opening that greeted them. Going back to where they came from was impossible.

Water shimmered in that impossibly tiny hole they had emerged from just a few moments ago; Amarillo couldn't imagine how they all got to where they were much less navigate back. Above the well (doubtless it reached even deeper down into the bowels of the mountain) was a rock face that disappeared into pitch blackness.

And Naruto-san was nowhere to be found.

Relief.

The tiny surprise dealt by the puff of smoke allowed Neji to feel relief; Naruto was alive somewhere, not here but alive, anyway. As soon as the thought came, it was swept away efficiently, replaced by a starkly clear image of the scenario at hand. Neji's goal was the immediate disposal of the ninja that took out the kage bunshin Naruto, obviously the highest caliber ninja among the enemies. If allowed to regroup, he would be the problem.

The 64 Hands of Hakke was as good as any starting point, he decided. The Hyuuga went for the kill, easily slipping past the two men that converged on him. One he hit at the nape; the other connected with his palm in that single almost offhand movement. (The clone vanished with a splash of water, but the second collapsed instantly, the hand-sized damage quickly spreading via chakra pathways.) Yukimura Bloodshanks, however, banished surprise as easily as Neji did relief. A large man with an even larger weapon, he leapt clear of the Neji's path with beguiling grace. The karet swung down with massive certainty, whistling a strange dirge as it slit air. Both blade and ear-piercing sound was blasted away by the Hakkesho Kaiten, but Bloodshanks had already succeeded in eluding Neji.

"The target!" the man was roaring—clearly not patient, this one. His crimson-dyed scalp lock, with which Neji has identified him, snapped as he spun to flee, a serviceable pennon for his comrades to gather around at.

And also for his enemies.

"IGAHHH!"

This time, Bloodshank's bellow was an animal's, teeming with a hatred that was primal and mindless. He dove for the Cloud nin, foaming at the mouth with sheer bloodlust. Even Neji was taken aback, halting the progression of the 64 Hands to allow the ensuing duel between the two outsiders. Leisure to watch was not his, of course, and Neji's attention was instead split among the three ninjas that seemed to have decided he was the small fry of the group.

Well, the Jyukken insidiously proved otherwise, even as Neji scanned the surroundings for his companions.

The prince and the genins ghosted his field of vision almost as soon as the last man proved to be another clone. Neji was able to find them, a huddle of three lodged in an enclosure of earth, close enough to the surface of the rock wall they were hidden behind for the Byakkugan to see.

But Hinata-sama was nowhere to be found.

Whether that was an ill or favorable thing, Neji had to forgo deciding as yet. Perhaps, his failure to find her indicated the enemies' failure as well, for here they were rushing for him, hunting game flushed out from their hiding places by all the commotion. Or perhaps, Hinata-sama had already been whisked away, and their boldness, carelessness, was indication of their mission's nearing success.

No matter.

Neji continued to dance the only dance he knew.

The portal to the underground room was barely that. It was easily a fissure in the ground anybody could have overlooked. Of course, there was nobody to even overlook such a thing, being that it was somewhere in the innards of a mountain.

Innards? To the Sleeping Mother, relatively modest in size compared to the other peaks that rose throughout the world, they were but insects burrowing through the thicker parts of her skin. To Hinata, however, the journey felt excruciatingly long. It seemed they have been crawling through the labyrinthine tunnels for hours, yet it could rationally be only a few minutes since Naruto had helped them out of the enemies' deadly lasso.

Hinata looked to the sleeping girl. Mai was quiet now, slumped bonelessly against the blond jounin's chest. Being trapped in a circle of high-level missing-nins with a child bleeding out was disconcerting enough. Seeing the said child's feet sticking out from a crack on the face of the earth was not that much of an improvement, and Hinata had witnessed this too many times during their underground trek for her nerves to unwind by very much now that they were in relative safety.

Nonetheless, Naruto's arrival had been timely. When the girl lost her head and rushed headlong into the melee, the fight deteriorated into a stand-off; that they had been on the disadvantage from the start was a dour thought she quickly brushed aside in favor of salvaging their chances of survival. Earth began to crumble beneath their feet, the beginnings of a genjutsu winding their guts into hard balls, building with their escalating fear their tomb, their tomb of rock, their tomb and deathbed both.

Deeper and deeper into a cold death, deeper and deeper into a dark death.

Deeper.

Mai had fallen to the spell, gibbering in claustrophobic frenzy. Hinata had time to knock the girl out, did so with a coldness that chilled her in retrospect, as she continued to dance with the unknown moonlit faces, consciously aware of the earth beneath her feet that slowly dwindled into the room of rock that was to be her end. The genjutsu was strong.

Then Naruto came, marked by the swirling concentration of power—the Rasengan clearly at its lowest level—that flew with his fist. The decimation at its wake was their straight path out of there. And even as they ran, even though the thrum of battle-headiness still crowded her ears, relief sang in every bone of her body.

Relief? In retrospect, there was a tinge of resentment, too, of disappointment...

But Hinata did not want to think of anything in retrospect for now. The enclosure of solid earth around her was too similar to the images earlier wrought by that genjutsu for comfort. She followed Naruto, a deformed shadow with the girl blending with his silhouette against the subdued lighting that he carried. He was quiet, had been quiet since he came for them, and Hinata found it unnerving.. The fact that his eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, strange cat eyes that were not his usual blue of the wide clear skies, was no comfort at all.

Still, Hinata continued to follow a few paces behind him, eyes always on his back, and kept her worrying for the others as a minimal murmuring at the back of her mind.

Being that it was the fourth time he fell on his face that night, Neji was forced to concede that perhaps some of these invaders did know what they were doing. The accompanying crack as he connected with something briefly alarmed him. He didn't, wouldn't, break anything—that he knew as soon as the left uppercut slammed against the side of his face—but he couldn't say the same thing about the tree that caught him. He wasted no time finding out. A solid kick had him airborne, leaving behind the dying plant to topple down the faraway below.

In that fraction of time he spent dangling over the edge of that precipice, his eyes caught something remarkable. The impression whatever it was gave was of circling stars, similar to the those applied in caricatures of people hitting their heads. He shook his head to clear his vision.

Still there.

The glow was the same as the glow that still coated the earth. This glow, however, pulsed lazily, a steady patient beckoning that, a lone pinpoint of light in the sooty stretch of darkness, reminded him of the indicator on the interface of one of those tracking devices the Yakuza used to follow their prey...

i Yes. /I But first, he had things to settle.

Mid-air, Neji had to change course, a feat he accomplished by a simple burst of chakra in the appropriate part of his body. Five poisoned darts easily missed him and the sixth he caught with the thick sole of his footwear. He landed on the rocky outcropping overhead, scree loosened by his feet rolling off to follow his fallen savior's path. His dance partner, the ninja who knew what he was doing, who had a pretty good aim, considering, waited for him there, assumed an odd, tilted little bow with flourish the moment he came.

"Aki Carmelo," he announced conversationally. "Assassin by profession; dancer by calling."

"And the occasional treacherous poisoning?" Neji asked in his version of the same tone. "Merely a hobby?"

"Oh, you know me," demurred Aki Carmelo. "I'm flattered."

"Formerly of the Hidden Village of Grass. Poisoned the village's water supply before going missing nin, killing mostly children. A deed that wouldn't escape most ninja bingo lists, but hardly one to toot about."

"As I said, I'm flattered."

They stood motionless, watching for the other's next move, seeking the precursor of some tactic, some advantage somehow seeded into the environment earlier, being currently seeded. Neji was superior in that arena and his eyes did not fail him. Aki Carmelo, thin and lithe, pale as death, was fuzzy as a peach upon closer examination. Those tiny projections, the hair-thin thorns he had used as darts earlier, made his skin slick with chakra. The man's venom was on his skin.

Taijutsu-wise, the Grass nin's fighting style relied on his speed and flexibility. His sashaying and swaying was irksome for a reason; it made his movements seem irrational. Neji's opponent was a close-range fighter, most likely relying on several hits like the Jyukken. The Hyuuga, however, didn't discount the possibility of otherwise, of Aki Carmelo's poison being deadly enough for a single contact to determine the battle's outcome.

Neji sidestepped his opponent's sudden lunge, unfazed by the repeatedly close calls. He calculated each block, each punch well, but the slithers he left chance were dangerously thin. (Rather like deigning to flirt with a pervert making a pass, Tenten would have joked with exaggerated glee.) True, his eyes enabled him to avoid touching the enemy's skin, but a little slip anywhere could effectively disable him.

The Leaf nin proved himself at least as acrobatic as the Grass nin. Neji matched each torturous contortion passably, managing to flip or roll at the last moment to avoid the side-winding attack of Aki Carmelo. Neji landed on his knee hard, easily angled his torso to avoid the sweep of the other's clawed hands. Pressing an elbow against the earth for leverage, he shot his lower appendages to entrap Aki Carmelo as he flitted by to deliver a flailing sort of attack.

Neji propelled himself and his prey of the ground. The Hyuuga untwisted in midair and found himself exactly where he wanted to be. He slammed his arm guard against the Grass nin's back with a violent crunch—just because Neji mastered the Gentle Fist style didn't mean he was opposed to breaking people's back the conventional way.

Unfortunately, the aforementioned noise was apparently not of breaking bone. The Grass dancer was still motile and had speedily placed wary distance between himself and the Hyuuga.

"I am flattered, as I said," Aki Carmelo spoke, lightly resuming the truncated conversation, as if Neji hadn't just tried to snap him in two. "But I'm also a little disappointed."

Neji smiled coldly. "Pre-conditioning addles one's reasoning," he warned.

"Oh, not at you," assured the Grass nin as they began that tentative circling once again. "At the stories, I mean. That poisoning stint—what was the fancy terminology?—that genocide. I was doing my village a favor. Ninja villages populate like rabbits during stretches of peace time."

"Actually, you were more popular as an anarchist," provided Neji, as the other sidled for the exposed flesh of his neck.

"Actually, I resent that label." Aki avoided the Leaf nin's retaliation with a sinuous twist of his hips. "Then again, we can't choose what we're remembered by ultimately. Being notable in the vast history of our species is already one thing."

Let it be known that Neji, who had his reasons for dancing this strange dance, was neither at advantage or disadvantage right at that moment, even as he continued to exchange words and blows with the Grass nin. He had learned to survive bantering, true enough, but that didn't mean he had lapsed to wasting time.

"You, on the other hand, what will you be remembered for? For being a Hyuuga?" Aki Carmelo grinned mockingly. "Your cousin, at least, will have the vainglory of being the Hyuuga clanhead—as well as, considerable fame for having the spectacular T&A most kunoichi don't. My personal opinion, at least." The grin became vicious. "Yes, I know about your little Konoha soap operas. Heard from Bloodshanks."

Neji was never idle.

"I'm getting sentimental here. I lay blame on you mostly. I haven't really thought of the night I left Grass for years. Or of that poisoning. Genocide. Whatever. It is inspiring feelings of fluffy warmth and affection. I do love my quaint, vermin-infested village."

Neji was never idle.

"I'm speaking for mostly myself, naturally, but we missing nins have reasons for defecting. Call it megalomania, but I want to make a mark on this god-forsaken planet. I want to really use the ninja's ability to shape this world. I can't do that if I'm being controlled by delusional fools. I have a greater vision, a greater understanding, a greater and grander i plan /i . Now if only that bastard Yukimura hadn't change plans on me at the last moment, I wouldn't have to be explaining all this to you. Capturing–"

Neji was never idle. In this case, however, his efficiency in ridding the world of people like Aki Carmelo, made him fail to hear the rest of the Grass nin's final confession. Aki Carmelo finally fell, thrashing as his throat closed, as his chest squeezed his heart to stillness. Neji had won a rather close fight without sustaining much damage, and though it was at the price of losing information, he was glad.

As a matter of fact, Aki Carmelo was also known to be fairly deadly in mid-range combat. (As was Neji. Actually, Neji was fairly deadly regardless of range.) Having an arsenal of jutsu was well and good. Timing, however, was crucial. Long, drawn out duels made for dramatic shows that drew crowds, as in chuunin and jounin examinations. Neji's was the perfect fight: he had eliminated the enemy before allowing usage of more powerful techniques. That simple.

And, well, the Jyuuken worked through clothing, unlike Aki Carmelo's poisonous skin.

What happened was this: Aki Carmelo secreted most of his body's poison at the horsetail-like extensions of the spinal cord at his lower back, a fact Neji discovered by studying the movement of chakra in the other's body. Neji's single blow had been two-fold. One, it destroyed the man's chakra control in the area, thereby stopping production of poison and impairing his body's ability to recognize the presence of such a damage. Two, it broke the reservoir with physical strength, spilling the poison into the fluid that cushioned the spinal cord. Aki Carmelo was indeed immune to his own poison, but only to some degree. He had still died from it.

Meanwhile, as Aki Carmelo uttered his death speech, Neji had been occupied with fighting off the Grass nin's cohorts. The remaining two were fairly competent, albeit not remarkable enough to fancy self-introductions. Neji, his immense calm starting to show minute cracks, wanted nothing more than to follow his cousin's trail, but was deterred at each step.

Finally, just as a final cyclone of chakra ripped aside the last ninja standing, Neji heard a familiar roar of approval.

"Top form, Hyuuga Neji!" cried the azure beast of beauty. "I expect nothing less from the comrade I have shared my formative years with. We are well met, though I suspect our presence is no longer necessary?" His sharp gaze swept dubiously over the Hyuuga's path of destruction.

Smiling faintly, Neji even bowed back to acknowledge Rock Lee's laudatory greeting, his gratitude for the back up Tsunade has sent—late, but not that late—not withstanding his impatience to find Hinata-sama. "Help yourself," he said expansively. He gestured to the ninjas slowly tottering back to their feet and was finally able to slip away to follow the cousin he was supposed to be protecting, grimly determined to rejoin with her at once.

Hyuuga Hinata had been the one who betrayed their location.

-March 07, 2006 22something.


	11. Chapter 10: That Which Remains Unsaid

Disclaimer: see previous page :P

**Chapter 10: That Which Remains Unspoken**

The night clouds, ethereal flocks of sheep that they were, having plodded slowly across the night sky, finally chose to do their grazing clumped around their scarred, silver-garbed shepherdess. It suited Neji fine, whatever the astral ungulates did. Already, he had the lay of the land marked in his mind's eye. Before the woolen sheath came over the moon, he had maximized the bluish cast over the mountain and had pinpointed the source of the tantalizing twinkle that traced his cousin's movements.

East to the Chanting Falls, the mountain side curved sharply inward, till seemingly there was but a fissure between its two faces, an axe wound on a slab of wood. Of course, it only looked like a fissure from down below, if one was looking up at the looming mass from the sprawl of its feet. Up there, it was too far a leap, and Neji had to trace the curvature, lengthening his travel time. Whatever had happened there, whether it was some titanic cracking that launched a landslide or the eons-long carving of the elements, vegetation had softened the that old injury. Neji had to pick his way through that as well.

The terrain was of no moment—merely a set of factors one instinctively adjusted to. The problem was the increasing impotence of the pulsations that marked Hyuuga Hinata. He knew nothing about whatever chakra-based method of tracking the enemy ninja used. Whether it was jutsu-produced or some chakra-imbibed machine, he did not know and at the moment he did not care. Obviously, this was how the enemies had managed to ambush them, had managed to know their exact position. The winking light had led them straight to Hinata-sama, and to her it would lead him, as well.

Or would have.

Neji muttered the beginning of an oath, then clipped it off so as to not give his unwarranted companion the benefit of knowing the magnitude of his escalating stress levels. He paused, perched atop a wiry tree branch that dangled him several feet above from where the fissured mountainside rejoined as a whole, and waited for Shinoda Iga.

"It vanished," was all Neji deigned to say.

The implication was there, unsaid but blatantly screaming. Neji had little doubt the Cloud nin would comprehend his terse statement. Yes, Shinoda Iga knew exactly what had vanished, and he would tell Neji all he knew.

"Yukimura Bloodshanks is dead, then," Iga said without a preamble. "I tried to keep him alive."

Neji nodded once: continue.

"As you may have gathered, Bloodshanks and I knew each other. I recognized him when I saw the mist rising around us earlier."

"It's not an uncommon technique among Mist nins like his dead companion," Neji pointed out.

"But the chakra it exuded made it unique. It is a substance he secretes himself. He has combined it with the technique of one of his companions to make the particles airborne, to create the effect we saw earlier. He senses the interaction of our bodies with the airborne particles. It's like water. Movement manifests itself in its surface through ripples. We disturb the cloud of chakra his airborne particles emit, somehow change the way he senses it."

"He then senses every movement of the individuals trapped in his cloud through the changes in the feedback he is getting."

"Yes. Until Naruto-san killed his partner, that was so. But the original purpose of his technique was as a method of tracking people. Depending on the amount lodged in a person's body, those particles release bursts of chakra, which Bloodshanks follows by feeling, even over great distances. The bursts of chakra are made possible with the use of the host's own energy. I imagine you see it as a pulsating glow?"

Neji said nothing.

"Anyway, the only reason I can think of why the glow you've been following has stopped is that Bloodshanks have died."

Neji nodded once again, then he continued to move, now with renewed urgency. Hinata-sama would still be in the general vicinity of where he saw the glow last; that he was certain of. But that Hinata-sama was alive and well . . .

Of that Shinoda Iga had given him no assurances.

---

"I guess, we don't need this anymore."

This referred to the light source they had been using till then. It was made of a toadstool, ground into a fine powder by hours of patient work (not his, by the way.) Ordinarily, it was just one of those little tricks used for quick little escapes, since even a tiny whiff of the powder could send you into a psychedelic world of prancing jellyfish and tittering lions. Holding his breath till he was blue, Naruto had carefully mixed it with water, deactivating its hallucinogenic properties and creating a sticky, bird-poop-ish paste that glowed an eerie green.

With the help of that phosphorescence, Naruto had navigated them through the honeycombing tunnels he had only explored once, years ago. Finding an access to these caves near the place he found Hinata and Mai was sheer luck. The Cloud nin's life had been in peril, but they could not afford to just stop and attend to the girl's wound till they had lost themselves inside the mountain. First of, the ambushing ninjas clearly weren't amateurs. Secondly, Naruto and Hinata weren't mednins; what they knew of first aid was definitely nothing compared to, say, what Haruno Sakura did. It was a nasty transverse cut that luckily did not penetrate her rib cage nor perforate her bowels; Hinata-chan looked. They had given her herbs to prevent infection and something to keep her temperature from reaching dangerous levels. A fire would have been good for her chills, too.

They finally found a place that seemed secure enough, and that was where they built the fire. It had an exhaust somewhere, for they could hear the strange whine of air passing through a narrow opening. The smoke wouldn't blind or choke them and would have little chance of pinpointing their location.

Firewood wasn't easy to come-by, of course. Again, it was luck that saved them, no thanks to his "lack of foresight." Instead, Hinata found a small pile of dried dung earlier, probably a stash somebody had kept for cold nights, somebody who had used these caves, too, somebody that was Jiraiya—or even himself. It didn't make the most deliciously aromatic smoke, but at it least it was warm.

Hinata-chan was quiet the entire time. Not that there was anything particularly remarkable about that; Hinata-chan was always quiet. It's just that . . . well, Hinata-chan wasn't always quiet with him. Tentatively, he peered at her, there where she was squatted, suturing the laceration on the kid's torso.

She was peering right back.

Flustered, he dropped his flint and scrambled to regain it. Good thing he failed the first time: he wasn't supposed to pick it up with bare hands, after all, because fires, even fledgling ones, weren't very nice to bare hands. Muttering sulfurously, he fished out the sharp piece of rock with a twig.

"Narut—"

"Yeah!" He looked up to her abruptly, the forced grin on his face looking more like a hobgoblin's grimace.

Hinata flinched, nearly dropping the sterile needle. "Um," she struggled. "A-are you all right, Naruto-kun?"

"Of course," came his automatic response. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well," answered the woman hesitantly. "For one thing, you seem somewhat . . . jumpy."

His laughter sounded forced to his ears. "Don't mind me," he assured her. "It's the um, that chemical thing that your body pumps out when you're excited—like after a battle, I mean. Ah, uh, what's that called again? Endorphin? Adnorline?"

"Adrenaline?"

"Yeah, yeah! That's it!"

"Oh, I see. Adrenaline."

"Uh-huh. Makes you sweat the smelly, greasy kind of sweat. Heh, I bet Kiba could tell us all about that. Ahahahaha . . . "

They became quiet once more and Naruto somehow found relief in that. Hinata finished closing up the wound—that they could both do, though of course the Byakugan made the Hyuuga more qualified for the job—and was now tucking Naruto's jacket underneath Mai's chin. He had stripped down to his shorts and pants. His other clothes where piled on top of the chuunin, in an effort to keep her warm. The Cloud nin was mumbling something in her sleep, still delirious with the fever, but subsided when the elder kunoichi gently hushed her. They would move again when her fever broke.

"By the way," Hinata suddenly spoke. "Thank you."

She was looking at the fire when she said this, and her eyes were pools of liquid flames, golden and unreadable. Crimson touched the slightest parts of her cheeks, maybe from the fire's heat or maybe from the endorphin he had been lamely rambling about earlier. Or adrenaline, he meant. Whatever.

Even the chilly air of the cavern had dried most of her hair, albeit unevenly. It fell as waves about her shoulder, a midnight cloak that was almost disheveled, being uncombed. She shook it out of her iridescent eyes and turned to look at him.

"That was a very tight spot we were in," she went on. "It's a good thing you came when you did."

Naruto closely studied her before answering. "That's good then," he finally said. "I was beginning to think you were mad at me."

Hinata started. "Mad?" she repeated. "Why would I be mad at you?"

Again, the jounin's reply came slowly. He was choosing his words carefully, which was uncharacteristic of him. The truth was he could think of several reasons why Hinata-chan should be angry at him. His presence in her general vicinity, in the place they were bathing in, was not an accident: it was the first place he went to after leaving his kage bunshin with Amarillo and the genins. The self-righteous words he spoke to Neji earlier echoed back to his ears and Naruto decided to be completely honest, never mind how stupid he'd probably sound, in light of his obvious inability to articulate these feelings. He was ashamed of his hypocrisy, his . . . betrayal.

"Naruto-kun?" Hinata-chan's expression was slightly confused. For some reason, he had been making _her_ nervous. Don't ask him how, but those were the vibes he was getting from her. Go figure.

"I didn't let you finish your fight with those enemy ninjas," Naruto said as he plopped down beside her. "I just sort of took over and let it rip."

"But Naruto-kun, if you didn't come, I'd probably have—"

"Probably have what?" he challenged.

"...I don't know," Hinata admitted.

"Exactly. Because I just barged in, big and tough, like I owned them all and well . . . "

"You did." There was an amused twinkle in her pale eyes.

"I did, didn't—" Naruto shook his head violently to reclaim his dropped thread of thought. "But that's not the point! The point is, I shouldn't have played almighty hero, like I usually do. Iruka-sensei did say I always have this tendency to butt into things that are none of my business. I'm sorry."

"But there's nothing to be sor—"

"There is!" Naruto insisted, his blue eyes flashing. "It's bad enough you're getting this sort of treatment from your family, all that bodyguard bullshit. Don't think you're getting that sort of crap from your friends, too. Don't think I came to rescue you like you were some untouchable princess or something like that. I'm your friend. I'm your comrade. I protect my comrades because that is Kakashi-sensei's ninja way, and that's my ninja way, too. It's not because I don't think you can take care of yourself."

"Oh," came Hinata's tiny reply.

"I mean, I'll beat the shit out of those assassins after you. I'll help you hunt them down. But there's a difference between me helping you and me rescuing you. You're not the civilian client here. You're my jounin team mate in this mission."

He stopped when he felt a light touch on his arm. Blue eyes wide, he traced the source of that sensation by sight, starting from the tips of the fingers resting on his biceps, up her tanned forearm, up the rounded carving of alabaster it gradually became, up the slope of her shoulder, her neck. Heat rose on his cheeks. Now that his impassioned declaration had ended, he felt sheepish and somehow foolish.

"I... er, you get what I'm saying, right, Hinata-chan?"

Bemusement still lingered in the Hyuuga girl's face, but unmistakably, there was also gratitude.

"I get what you're saying, Naruto-kun," she said simply. "Thank you."

He wanted to reply with a, "you're welcome," or something equally appropriate. Knowing himself, he would have stammered some inane remark praising his own, nonexistent, noble intent. Instead, both their attentions were called away by a sharp cry from the sleeping girl behind them.

"Sayuri-sama!"

The unfamiliar name was a battle-cry. Clearly and loudly uttered, it was a rousing contrast to their almost whispered conversation. Mai was half-kneeling on her makeshift pallet, clutching at her side in pain and exertion, but obviously poised to take out some attacker only visible to her gray, glazed-over eyes. The two were beside her instantly, in time to catch her as her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her body slumped bonelessly in a dead faint.

"Sayuri-sama . . . I will protect you. I will . . . Sayuri-sama . . . "

"Do you have any more sedative?" Hinata asked. "I dosed her earlier. She'll still be delirious once she starts shaking the drug off."

"We'll have to head that off, huh?" Naruto agreed, as he began rummaging his packs. "We'll be hard pressed getting her to keep still. She's feisty."

"That she is," murmured his companion, and then they were quiet.

Naruto watched Hinata as she worked. Her lithe movements, almost ghostly in the semi-darkness, were starkly outlined, clearly defined even to his half-shut eyes, for her form blotted most of the fire from his line of vision. The cavern was small, so there was nothing else to watch, anyway.

Hinata carefully soaked a piece of cloth with some water from one of his flasks. This she put on the girl's forehead. Then she set to work on drawing up the sedative. The tiny vial Naruto gave her she rolled between two palms before taking a syringe to fill with the medication. The play of light and shadows defined her features in interesting ways and he found himself unable to look elsewhere.

Looking at her fleshy and rather curvaceous form, the overhonest assessment of the prince somehow found its way to his head, floating about disturbingly in fragments. It was taking conscious effort to clear his mind—come to think of it, he had never really noticed those things about his friend—but he was able to, in the end. There was something very lulling about the carefully measured movements of the kunoichi. With a jolt, a distant sort of jolt that was somehow blunted at its edges, he realized that the movements were so familiar because he had seen Sakura do them dozens of times before, mostly on Sasuke. When Sakura was holding a syringe, the needle usually ended up somewhere on the Uchiha's body. But Naruto found the thought not really affecting him, and he let it float away in favor of the comfortable drowsiness, in favor of the shadow play that felt oddly like home and comfort and things like that.

_And she'll cradle each in her rounded arms._

Naruto saw how round those arms were as they reached against the firelight to fix the makeshift blanket over the girl. Soft and supple, they were indeed as pale as Fuwa Amarillo observed and they absorbed the gold of the flames.

_Like her shining mystic eyes._

And the blond jounin, whose thoughts were usually occupied by ramen or dreams or practical jokes, suddenly became abashed. He averted his blue eyes in embarrassment, looking elsewhere while his comrade still shadowed the fire, while the white rounded arms still stood out among it all. Somehow it was more invasive than ogling her cleavage or her thighs—not that he had _ever_ done either.

He banished her image from his mind. Quite frankly, it made him feel like a pervert. And it was all that Amarillo's fault.

Speaking of Amarillo...

"You like that guy Amarillo?" he blurted out.

"I wonder how Amarillo-san is," she said at exactly the same time.

"Oh, they're fine," Naruto immediately replied, taking advantage of her line to quickly detour from his. "I've taken care of him and the genin boys."

"Um, Naruto-kun." Hinata was nibbling on a lip. "You don't dislike Amarillo-san, do you?"

"Of course not. He's pretty weird, but he's okay. I like him."

"Good." She smiled. "I like him, too."

"You know, I was forgetting he was your suitor."

Hinata laughed. "I was, too, actually."

"Yeah?" Naruto lay back on the cold floor. "It's good that you like him. I mean, if someone's trying to marry someone, you gotta at least like him. Ne, Hinata-chan?"

"Hmmm..."

"You're not going to let them decide that for you, right?"

"Them?"

"The Hyuuga clan. Promise me they won't. If they try to pull that arranged marriage thing without you agreeing to it, I'll raise hell. I'll—"

He caught himself. He groaned and buried his face in his palms.

"Hey, Hinata-chan," he said from between his hands.

"What is it, Naruto-kun?"

"Next time I do that, just punch me in the face."

Hinata sighed. "You know, I did resent it a bit. Not your help, of course. Just that I'm a little curious as to how the fight would have ended. But I'm not offended at all. I'm thankful, Naruto-kun. Really."

"So you'll punch me then? In the face?"

"Why the face?"

"So I'll shut up quicker."

"Well . . . I promise."

"To punch me?" In spite of himself, he felt a tad deflated.

"No. To not let them do that to me. The arranged-marriage-without-me-agreeing-to-it thing."

Naruto's grin was broad. "Exactly what I wanted to hear."

----

"You are not surprised by this ambush."

Neji noted the diplomatic tone of the statement. The other was not starting a confrontation; he wanted a truce.

"I wonder..." Shinoda spoke again. "As a visitor shinobi, I am entitled to receive information, correct? On a need-to-know basis, of course."

"True. And you're not surprised by this ambush either."

"No. Not after my student killed that man."

Neji nodded. "And?"

"And that I am entitled to keep my theories my own, being that they are baseless and pure suppositions."

The Hyuuga didn't budge either. "Understood."

The mednin smiled faintly. "I thought we would come to an understanding."

Neji uttered a noncommital sound.

There was a pause in their exchange, as both continued to leap through the twisted vegetation. Then, Shinoda Iga halted. "I think I see your kinswoman."

"Yes."

Hinata-sama met them at the serrated mouth of a slit on the earth. After her came the prince, the two Cloud genins, and finally, with the ninja girl Mai in his arms, Naruto.

He grinned broadly. "What took you guys so long?"

---

It was evening and again there was a quiet bustle in the Hyuuga grounds, a sound akin to a roaring machine that was far off, too distant to bother. Hinata felt relaxed, despite the bemusement that prompted her to take a rare walk in the resplendent garden the inner apartments ringed. With each breath of wind came the perfume of the flowers and it reinforced the feeling of being swaddled, being safe.

It was good to be home.

After the abrupt interruption of their excursion, after the efficient dousing of the ambush, there was nothing much to relate. Neji-nii had done well, having been able to remove the two targets (i.e. her and the prince) from danger with his impeccable delegation of tasks, which had left him free to wipe out the missing nins. Hinata knew it wasn't nearly as contrived as the black-and-white report made it seem, but what did it matter as long as the mission was a success?

Naruto-kun had secured a safe place for her and Mai. The girl's fever was just subsiding (as was her delirious mouthing) when the two genins and the prince burst upon them. Her companion didn't seem as startled as she was by their panicked arrival. He had figured, apparently, that the others would have found them at some point. (If they had gotten lost was another story, thankfully one that remained untold.)

And so the whole whispering and elbowing bunch of them made their way to the surface. Who else were there to welcome them but Neji-nii and Iga-san? All in all, the whole ordeal was wrapped up nicely and prettily in the end.

It wasn't in her nature to distrust, but Hinata distrusted all that had passed, all the same.

As for the enemies, Lee-san and his cell had scattered them, leaving some for dead and a few others fleeing, marked for death by the faceless ANBU. With bodies at hand, the investigation would be more thorough here than the one made about the Marima incident. Unfortunately, Hinata wasn't entitled to such information.

As it was, her father asked her no questions.

Despite her bemusement, Hinata was quick to move on to things she considered more important: her confrontation with Hanabi the morning she left for Chanting Falls. Hanabi had certain idiosyncracies; it was never good to let things stew for too long with her. The younger may be the stronger, more perceptive, more intelligent one, but she was also moody, temperamental, and cryptic. Often, it was Hinata who had to swallow pride (or whatever it was she swallowed) to approach her sister and clarify what was said and what was not said, what have been said that shouldn't have been and what have not been said but should have been.

Hanabi was nowhere to be found.

After wandering through most of the mansion's empty halls, a third cousin mentioned offhand that Hanabi was away in a highly classified mission—an honor and a challenge to the clan was how he put it. It was some comfort, though not much. It explained the ignorance—or closemouthed-ness—seemingly pandemic in the household.

Neji-nii, meanwhile left her to her own devices all day, after extracting her word that she'd stay within the grounds till he contacted her. Hinata had spent the time reading in the library, except for lunch, which she had spent with the prince, and afternoon tea, which she had spent with her father.

In the main training room, the one she usually frequented, she finally heard from the younger genius. Hanabi had slipped a rather ungracious little note among her gear.

_Oneesama,_

_Keep. Your. Paws. Off._

_I mean it. _

_The contents of the swirly box is mine, as you've already relinquished claim. In the word of my contemporaries: _

_Sucker_

_Hanabi_

_P.S. You've been getting chunky, too, so it's for your own good._

What Hanabi referred to as "swirly box," was a gift from the prince, and a princely gift it was. It contained very expensive, wine-laced little chocolate works of art. They looked exquisite, were reported to taste even more so, but Hinata did not agree well with one of their special ingredients. She had given them to Hanabi the night she had received them.

As for the chunky part. . . Well, Hinata had to admit she was still smarting a little from that jibe. Just because she was a little more fleshy than the younger girl. . .

But what was the point of the letter? Hinata had tried not to let it bother her; it was not in her nature to be suspicious of other people. However, all the mystery surrounding this supposed targeting of her was a constant presence in her thoughts. Relinquished claim... of the box? Added with, "the threat is closer to home than you think," it hardly inspired serenity. What was Hanabi getting at?

These were Hinata's thoughts as she strolled the blossom-perfumed, plant-screened space of the inner gardens. The stars were obscured by the oddly placed trellises that were scattered about and the vines that were flowerless in fall that were entwined about them. The mums, usually scarlet and gold by daylight, were black and inseparable with the rest of the bushes at night. Skulking here and there were the knobbly dwarf trees and the stout stone carvings that were no more meaningful under the sun. All these elements converged into a strange pathway that lead to a dainty wooden bridge. It spanned across a sparkling pool of water, broken into parts by sizable boulders positioned with deliberation. There was a tree at one end, a willowy, slender thing that was said to be brought from wherever it was the Hyuuga family originally came (a place as obscure as their habits) and it was the scent of its white, bell-like flowers that permeated the surrounding area. The bridge then went on to the only access to the walkway that ringed the building; the only entrance to the house itself was on the west side, the exact opposite end.

When she reached the pseudo-sacred place, Hinata was greeted by the sight of Mai the chuunin stomping on the head of Hib the genin, which was under the gurgling, perfectly manicured spring.

Hinata actually took a stymied moment to sort out the situation, before hastily stepping forward to pull the drowning child from his teammate's clutches.

"Mai-san," Hinata chided weakly. "I don't think you should–"

"Go around committing heinous crimes in other people's gardens," finished a voice dryly. "It's bad for the Cloud's image. We're not supposed to be as barbaric as Sand, you know."

Mai gave her teacher a withering look, then glided away to sulk somewhere unseen. Katsuo meanwhile appeared, abandoning his safe haven among the dense growth of bougainvillaea. He had noticeable welts running across his arms, neck, and face.

"Dude," Hib coughed out. "You look like shit."

"Talk to yourself, Hib. Mai caught you. You suck, man."

"But you look worse, believe me."

"It's those itch worms," Katsuo bewailed, scratching his neck raw. "Sensei, do something."

Iga gave a long suffering sigh. "I'm on it," he assured the boy, as he patted his pockets for some ointment. "Here, Hib."

The boy shook his head, the movement to rid his eyes of damp bangs doubling as a negative. "What if he still got those itch worms on him?" Hib's eyes were wide. "I mean it's not like I'm scared but—"

"If you start hyperventilating, then we're sure you're getting enough air in those lungs, and we're sure you'd live after Mai-kun's attack Move it, Hib." Iga paused thoughtfully, then turned to speak to Hinata. "Mai-kun is Mai-kun because she finds it inappropriate and too informal for myself to call her without a honorific."

"San is too distant," elaborated Katsuo as Hib gingerly rubbed the sticky, pungent cream on his face. "Chan is demeaning. She demanded respect the first time we met all our cell supervisors. There's four of them and Iga-sensei was the only one who tried to smart mouth her."

"See, Mai's from this uptight sort of old-money family," said Hib. "They're a bunch of stiff assho—"

"You don't want to try drowning a second time, do you?" inquired his teacher sweetly. "Anyway, I mentioned that just because I heard the ladies in town chattering about the Kunoichi Clique. It's spreading like wildfire through out the world, huh? Though Leaf doesn't seem as rabid as it's Cloud counterpart, I'd rather you know I'm not making Mai-kun masculine or anything like that."

Hinata blinked. "Oh," she said hoarsely. "I see."

"Sensei is Mai's least favorite teacher," Hib divulged confidingly. "She's dead set on being perfect and all so that sensei wouldn't be able to criticize anything about her. Mai's stuck up."

"And a very good aim," pointed out Katsuo.

"But she'd have no chance to test that good aim tonight, since she already went back to the prince's room."

"Where you two should be," said Iga sternly. "Go on, you two."

"Yeah, yeah."

Hinata watched as the two boys disappeared down the pathway, fingering the mysterious note in her pocket absently. Iga watched with her, but she remembered his presence only when he sighed deeply a few moments later.

"I like Konoha," he said judiciously.

"You didn't expect to?" Hinata asked.

The mednin shrugged. "Well, we were enemies for the longest while. Enemies have an unreasonable tendency to despise everything about each other."

"But we've been at peace for the longest time, too."

"True. We should work to keep it that way, no matter how difficult things get." He turned to her. "Those three like it here, too. They seem to find it easier to breathe, easier to grow. . ." His voice faded as his attention turned to the skies behind her. "Same stars. How curious."

Hinata couldn't think of anything to say, so she echoed him. "How curious."

"Good night, then. It'll be an early start for us."

Hinata murmured back a greeting, then turned to the direction the Cloud nin had been looking at. A masked ANBU shimmered briefly up the roof, then vanished from sight.

How curious.

1930 051706

Yes. Five months ago. slinks away


	12. Chapter 11: Snippets

Disclaimer: insert the usual

**Chapter 11: Snippets**

On a pleasant day that started of and continued to hover on lazily, Hinata found herself drowsy. The October afternoon promised nothing but the eventual descent of darkness, and even the evening bore nothing to look forward to. At that thought, she succumbed to a long-suffering yawn before recollecting where she was and why.

"Goodness," she murmured, hastily covering her mouth. "Excuse me, Sakura-san."

"Yawn all you want," said the mednin generously. "The worst thing it'll do to me–" She indulged in a yawn of her own and topped it with a contented sigh. "Is that."

Hinata laughed. "I'm not being too supportive here, if I'm making you sleepy while you're studying."

"Believe me, it's not you." Grimacing, Sakura looked up from the offending scroll. "And it's time for a break, anyway."

They decided that food was definitely in order. Sakura set aside her study materials, as did the Hyuuga with her light reading, and dainty little cakes were served to go with their steaming cups of tea.

Their lack of conversation was by no means oppressive, and Hinata found herself observing the other girl as they both ate. Sakura's eyes, a pale green that was almost blue, wandered to the outside as she chewed languorously. She wiped away the residual icing at the side of her mouth, then blinked slowly, awakened. Hinata knew she, as well as the rest of the world, was once again visible to the blossom-named kunoichi, and so smiled tentatively. Sakura beamed back, unconsciously and guilelessly pretty.

"Sorry," Sakura said sheepishly. "I keep forgetting we're here for official business. I'm all for Ino-chan's aims, but not for the same reasons. I do think that ninja life is lonely, but I don't think being a woman has everything to do with it."

"Regardless, I think we're fulfilling Ino-san's aims well enough. Your female companionship is relaxing, Sakura-san."

"Like it takes much to relax on a day like this."

"It is nice outside."

"But I'd rather stay in, if you don't mind."

"No, I'd rather stay in, too." The both of them yawned again, and then fell to giggling like. . . well, like girls.

"Well," Sakura began. "I'll start."

Hinata smiled encouragingly.

"How was your week?"

"It was interesting. And yours?"

"Routine. There's studying, and a couple of missions, since I do need to eat. Then, there's the usual hospital time—no exotic jutsu injuries for a while now. Usual patients to follow up with. Usual sessions with shishou. Oh, yeah, and then there's studying again. Your turn."

"Well, I did get to leave the village for a few days."

Sakura started. "Oh, yeah! I heard about your—" She stopped and squirmed in her seat uncomfortably.

"Leave of absence." Hinata smiled a little tightly. "As necessitated by family affairs." She was reciting the official Hyuuga stance on the sordid affair, and Sakura didn't pry.

"Ah, and your houseguest," Sakura said. "That Rock visitor. I met him once, during one of his visits to shishou. He was. . ." The mednin's expression became quizzical. "He's your suitor, right?"

"Was." Hinata was a tad sheepish. "He had withdrawn his suit."

"Oh." Blinking, the other girl smoothed back a few stray strands of pink from her eyes. "You seem pretty cheerful about that," she observed carefully. "Was the prince that horrible?"

"Not at all." Hinata laughed. "But it's good I didn't have to do any actual rejecting. That would have been awful."

"And you would have, huh?" Sakura peered at her shrewdly. "Rejected him, I mean."

"Well," the other stammered,. "A-amarillo-san is a p-perfect gentleman, but–"

"Not the one you want to marry."

"Yes, and," she added shyly. "I don't want to marry yet, anyway."

"Hmmm. . ." Sakura laid a chin on the table. "So how did he do it?" she said curiously. "Was it awful? We're you doing anything encouraging or _dis_couraging? I'm intrigued by this suitor business, if you don't mind, Hinata-chan."

"He was pretty gracious about it. I don't think I did anything in particular. But maybe he knew I didn't really want any suitors? Because he said something about fairness and truth and something vague. I didn't entirely understand him. I guess, he didn't want to marry either. Not yet, anyway."

"So they're leaving?"

"They left this morning. Not as early as they wanted, but they're probably beyond the borders of Fire country by now."

----

Because he lived in a village surrounded by a considerably formidable forest, Naruto had learned long ago that nature wasn't always what it seemed. It wasn't necessarily duplicitous but merely elusive to human understanding. (Or to his. Whatever.) Beneath the idyll, almost indolent air of the towering trees, there was an undertone of bustling activity. The forest was, as a matter of fact, busy, busy, busy.

Naruto, being the ninja that he was, disappeared into those resplendent lives, disappeared into their sort of invisibility. He was on his way home from Grass country after a simple mission.

Naruto was the sort of person who thrived among comrades, but he did appreciate being alone, now and then. His wandering years with Jiraiya had replaced the loneliness of his childhood with reflective serenity. Still, he didn't last very long without someone to talk to, so when he came upon a familiar group of travelers, he immediately barred their path with a jaunty entrance.

The Cloud nins didn't seem surprised to see him—he wasn't trying to surprise them, anyway. (That would have been like asking for several knives to fly after his ass.) He himself was a little startled to see them.

"You guys are leaving?" he demanded without preamble. "Already?"

"It hardly warrants such incredulity, Naruto-san," protested Amarillo. "We have imposed for more than the planned sennight."

"A what?"

"A week," murmured Iga helpfully.

"My lady cousin's more timely departure shames me into remembering my manners. We will no longer delay, as sad as this parting is."

"But it's not like we're kicking you out." Naruto managed to look forlorn, as he squatted at the roadside.

"If it makes you feel better," said Katsuo. "It wasn't my idea."

"Me neither," chimed in Hib, plopping down beside the Leaf nin.

"We'll miss Konoha."

"Particularly her cuisine," appended their sensei lightly.

"Oh, hell yes," agreed Katsuo miserably. "It'll be weeks till we eat decent food again."

"Sensei, you're so crusty," complained Hib. "You'll end up killing us, ya know?"

"With malnourishment."

"Which is why, instead of sitting around criticizing sensei, we should keep moving," spoke up their sole female companion irritably.

"As always, succinct and pointed, Mai-kun," murmured Iga. "And loyal, too."

"I don't think I can last that long," wailed Hib.

"We're stopping at Rock country on the way," pointed out Katsuo. "Stack up over at Prince's palace and you'll have buffer against the thin tasteless gruel he rations out for breakfast and dinner."

"What's for lunch?" asked Naruto.

"Gruel. But there's usually people who take pity on us on the road and throw out scraps. So it's gruel _and_ scraps."

"I'm on a tight budget," came Iga's feeble attempt to defend himself.

"I heard teaching doesn't pay well," remarked Naruto. "I guess, it's true with you."

"No way!" burst out Hib. "Sensei's not poor; he's a miser, period."

"Hey, Prince." The blond jounin turned his attention to the man standing serenely to one side of the bickering Cloud nins. "You're quiet today."

"Hmm?" The prince roused. "Oh. Ah. Well, the events that have transpired so recently has given one much to ruminate upon."

Naruto scratched his head. "I guess, we're really just used to it. I mean, you don't get ambushed and stuff for a living."

"Oh, that adventuresome frolic in the fair mountains of Fire? I found that rather invigorating. I refer to the matters dearer to our incorporeal aspects."

The Leaf nin slowly translated this statement, chewing on his cheek as he mused. "You know," he said finally. "You're not going to get to know her much, if you don't spend that much time with her."

"You are speaking of whom?" The man sounded genuinely puzzled.

"Hinata-chan. You have to get to know her first, and she's gotta get to know you."

"Ah, but I need not peruse the details of her life too closely to find reasons for my stalwart admiration for her. What I know of her is more than sufficient."

"But she doesn't know enough of you," came the retort. "You can't just marry people you met last week."

Amarillo laughed. "So that's what's gotten you so irked!"

Naruto bristled. "Hey, just because you and her family's gotten everything fixed doesn't mean she'd just stand there and take it. That's full of shit!"

"Rest at ease, my friend." The prince's tone was light. "We are not betrothed."

Naruto blinked. "So you don't like Hinata-chan?" he said incredulously.

Amarillo blinked, as well. "Naruto-san. . ."

"I mean, I'm not saying people automatically like Hinata-chan. Just that people don't usually dislike her. They just, you know, overlook her sometimes."

"On the contrary, I find her fascinating."

"You're not making any sense."

"My dear Naruto-san," the prince said expansively. "My regard for her, albeit budding, promises to be so remarkable that I had personally taken steps to halt its already exponential growth. You spoke of choices; I chose to deny her that choice. My pride, I confess, is a downside of my upbringing. I cannot abide the idea of having my expectation less than fulfilled."

"In other words, you're afraid of being jilted."

"Perhaps, in the long run, that would be one of my problems. As of the moment, I am only concerned with patronizing the virtue of love and the ideal of freedom."

"I don't get it," growled the blond.

"It's not fair." The prince suddenly smiled. "Perhaps, I've whiffed the coming of a man more. . . appropriate."

"Appropriate?"

"Destined, I daresay."

". . . What?"

"Let's leave it at that, shall we?"

"Yeah," Mai said suddenly. "There's not much daylight left."

"I have to agree," said Iga ruefully. "Your willingness to fraternize with rivals is hardly universal, Naruto-san."

Naruto shook his head vehemently. "They're not gonna touch you, whatever their feelings are. Tsunade obaa-chan won't take that crap. Or any of the past Hokages."

"Granted. But accidents do happen in the dark."

"You guys be careful, then," the younger man finally conceded. "And Prince, it's not like you can't visit us anymore just because you jilted Hinata-chan."

"Jilted?" Amarillo repeated morosely. "Your choice of words can truly make one so discomfitted."

Naruto merely grinned evilly. "So long, kiddies."

"Goodbye, Naruto-san," said Katsuo formally.

"May we never be situated in an encounter that would necessitate us to take your life," said Hib equally formal.

"Happens." Naruto shrugged. "Ditto, anyway."

"Cool," exulted the irrepressible genin. "I've always wanted to say that to a famous foreign nin. Bad ass!"

"He's not famous," pointed out Mai.

"So what? Still bad ass."

"I don't get you, Naruto-san," was Iga's frank farewell. "And I do regret leaving so soon. But we'll be seeing each other some other time, so don't be a stranger."

"What Hib said, then," agreed Naruto.

Shinoda Iga was the last to vanish among the trees.

-----

"So this Iga person. . . He's mednin?"

Sakura, having finished her slice of cake, had focused her full attention to her companion. Her pale eyes were trained on Hinata expectantly, even as she toyed with a fork and the smudged remnants of icing. The Hyuuga's mouth was occupied by a last mouthful, so she nodded her reply.

"And you say he was the one who extracted the poison from your system," Sakura continued. "I'm impressed. Whatever it was he extracted from you was implanted by a fairly complicated justu—even shishou was unfamiliar with it. A jutsu that would undo it would have to somewhat. . . resonate with the original jutsu, which means he had encountered it before."

"Actually, it wasn't really poison in that sense," offered Hinata. "He said it was harmless. Just that it was a marker that the enemy tracked me with."

"But he had said that the original form of the substance was poison, didn't he?" Sakura's eyes were narrowed, shrewd. There was a brief pause wherein Hinata mentally struggled to bear her companion's probing expression. Regardless, Sakura dropped the topic. "It's too bad I didn't get to meet him," she said instead.

"You didn't?"

"Nah. I was suppose to be present in one of those dinner parties with Hokage-sama, but I got called off for something else. Didn't get much info about him other than subjective details like he's pleasant and clean-cut and good-looking. Well, was he?"

"A-ah," Hinata faltered, her expression honest and pained. "I. . . didn't notice."

Sakura laughed. "I didn't expect you to."

Though she was sorely tempted, the Hyuuga didn't ask what the other girl meant by that.

"Anyhow, I would have liked to meet that Cloud mednin. At a purely professional level, of course." There was an uncharacteristically feral edge to her tone.

"Perhaps, we'd run into him again?" Hinata suggested after an awkward pause.

"Perhaps." Sakura frowned. "If I could just remember what exactly about him rang a bell," she muttered. "Not a very chipper bell, at that."

Whatever it was, she didn't succeed in conjuring it fast enough. Her attention shifted, and so did the conversation.

------

Hyuuga Hinata having been born a very important person, had a personal, protective posse in the person of one Hyuuga Neji. Where she went, he inevitably went as well. Too quickly, he had gotten used to attending to his own affairs while keeping an eye and half his brain relegated to tracking his kinswoman and everything happening around her in a within a half-mile radius. For the rest of the world, finding two Hyuuga whiling away the afternoon in the same café was a tad incongruous with their usual routines.

Neji wasn't really trying to make it seem like otherwise.

Actually, finding Neji in the scenario he was currently involved in was incongruous in itself. For Konoha ninjas, that was. In practice, he and his partner had hashed and rehashed this scene to perfection. Much of the credit was due to Ryuusei Tenten. The suave, flirtatious little quips were all her responsibility, as were the tiny numerous gestures that were soaked with casual familiarity. Neji only had to be cool and unaffected, i.e. not do anything at all.

Part of their conversation went as follows:

"So what's the final diagnosis?"

It was an abrupt interruption and Tenten did not take it in kind. "Poison," she pronounced, just the slightest of ice in her words. "She was poisoned."

"Then they've confirmed the goal was a fatality."

"Not necessarily."

"Then she wasn't necessarily poisoned."

"Oh, but she was." Tenten's voice hardened. "She almost died, you know," she added, almost as an afterthought. "The poison messed with her heart's electric conduction system, the parts that govern the pace and regularity of her heart beats—but didn't I tell you all that before? Its true purpose was to introduce the tracking chemical into her body."

"Elaborate."

"What Shinoda Iga told you about the substance in Hinata's body has been verified. It did lead the assassins to your location. They were being tracked by some of our people for a different reason, and there was a sudden change in their movement that was apparently triggered by. . . something. It's consistent with their last known position before being spotted by Uchiha Sasuke well within Fire country's borders. It's consistent with their change of speed, with the entire hypothetical timetable the investigators set up, starting from when Hinata's team first encountered Bloodshanks in Marima. Incidentally, Kazuma Ada, formerly of Mist, is the only other person in the Chanting Falls ambush also present in the Marima incident. He's dead, too."

"And this substance? Modified cells from Bloodshank's body that produces pulses of chakra that can be tracked over certain distances. I wouldn't have seen it if it were simply radioactive in nature."

"Not exactly cells. Less than that, actually. They've engineered a certain virus using Bloodshank's genetic code. These virus then take over host cells, converting them into cells that produce a lot of chakra, that is released in a sudden burst as the cells die. These are the pulsations you saw and, presumably, Bloodshanks felt. They think it's activated by a blood-limit jutsu."

"And this came from which sci-fi novel?"

"This came from the brilliant mind of the Godaime's protégé. Don't interrupt me."

He grunted.

"Anyway, the virus was apparently only stable enough for transport while mixed with a certain kind of fungus. A substance called malatanol is a derivative of this fungus. While used as a medicine in some circles, most use it as a very subtle poison."

"Subtle enough to make it appear that the poisoning was the ulterior motive."

"But was actually just a misdirection." Tenten trilled her 'r' with relish. "They probably wanted her alive, but more easily accessible when the time to kill her comes. It could also be an exhibition of power, a threat."

"To whom?"

"Konoha, Hyuuga."

"To what end?"

"I don't know." Tenten shrugged. "Could be anything."

"Then lay off conjectures."

"Exercising your imagination once in a while wouldn't hurt, you know." Tenten's huff of irritation fluffed her bangs.

"And the cloud of chakra-glowing dust in Bloodshanks called forth in Chanting Falls, supposedly of the same material?"

"They haven't gotten to that part yet, and I have no ideas." She sighed. "I get the point. Enough conjectures."

"And the body?"

"Which one?"

"First casualty."

"Oh, your dissection project? He's very intriguing. Technically, he doesn't count towards your body count, so we're still even."

"You keep count."

"Ouch. What a way to break a girl's heart! And here I am thinking a little competition is enlivening our rickety, arthritic romance."

Neji ignored this. "So he was already dead when the girl cracked his skull," he summarized instead.

"Yes. And that was the young kunoichi's handiwork, huh?" The weapon expert's eyebrows rose. "She has a deft touch."

"Your appreciation of stabbing skills aside, tell me what's so interesting about this body."

"Aside from the fact it's been dead for days before the Cloud girl supposedly killed him? From your accounts, he was a fairly animated corpse when you guys met him. So far, I haven't found anybody amused by the idea." Tenten paused thoughtfully. "Let me put it this way," she continued. "The whole situation is a foul whiff of the past."

"A foul whiff?"

"Foul." Tenten repeated seriously. "Cadaverous foul."

"Impress me," came the flat request. "With more of your rapier wit."

"You are so not fun when you put your mind to it," she complained.

"I'm not even trying."

"Anyway," Tenten said with a sigh. "It's too reminiscent of Orochimaru's immortality experiments for comfort. This isn't just about your cousin anymore. This will probably warrant an S-class investigation, top priority. It'll be even harder to harvest info from here on."

"So your long-windedness is concluded by this pathetic excuse?"

"I'm not done yet." The weapon specialist glared at him. He didn't miss the half-hidden resentment in her eyes. "I have more information."

"Is this pseudo-Orochimaru pertinent to my mission?"

"Not at the moment. And neither is the dead body."

"What do you think is?"

"Yukimura Bloodshanks."

Neji actually smiled at this.

"Oh, yes. Ryuusei Tenten here," his informant was muttering. "Always happy to make misanthropic prodigies giddy as colts."

"Too much theatrics," Neji critiqued. "Your performance will benefit from a considerable decrease in pouting and sulking."

"I shall extirpate such annoyances in our next session." The brunette was smiling a little too like Neji to be considered gracious. "Is there anything you want increased?"

"Sensible talk," he suggested.

"Only if you draw a little bit closer."

-----

Idyllic afternoons spent in front of dainty tea sets: it was hard to believe that Haruno Sakura's ninja career has been reduced to such. The outward appearance of her current lifestyle belied the actual bulk of work involved. These past few months was, in truth, a rather hectic review of a decade's worth of learning. The honor she sought wasn't that known even among mednins. Holding the highest attainable rank in the profession had no practical value. When one stood a the precipice overlooking death, it didn't matter what affix adorned the name of one's savior. Sakura wasn't doing for practical reasons, anyway. And she's never been one to expect gratitude.

Still, it was very important to her.

Being cloistered in the safe haven of the village was lonely, but looking at your comrades' backs was lonelier still. This insecurity was deep-seated, a secret; Sakura had failed to outgrow it. She strived for excellence as obsessively as her teammates had been known for (though not quite as extreme in means, she admitted). She had learned to endure the accompanying loneliness in being the best of the best.

Hinata was sweet, uncomplicated. Diversionary, too, Sakura had to say. She saw a little bit of herself in the other girl, but she hadn't pointed out exactly what yet. The thought was a little mean, but Sakura found comfort in the fact she wasn't the only person grounded in Konoha.

The Hyuuga had left the café almost an hour ago. Sakura had opted to stay, laughingly pointing out that she was almost a permanent fixture in the establishment and that she rarely left till around five in the afternoon. Most people knew where to find her in case of emergencies.

Obviously, the two waitresses standing by the cashier's kiosk did indeed regard Sakura as part of the furnishing. The place was empty save for her; most likely, it would stay so till later in the evening. Their idle conversation became the backdrop of her studying.

"Did you see the Hyuuga boy, the scary one?" She was the elder of the two and often acted it. The other girl usually went along with her opinions.

"The Hyuuga are all scary."

"The scariest—"

The more timid Ami couldn't let this one slide, however. "You mean, the hottest one," she corrected.

"Fine, fine!" Mimi sighed. "Him."

"Oh, of course. You can't miss anyone sizzling like that."

"I mean with Tenten-chan."

"You can hardly miss that either. I think it's sweet."

"I think it's hideous."

"Are you jealous or something? But I like Tenten-san. She's both pretty and strong. They're a good match."

"Hah! I wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot pole. I mean, he's a genius, a hero, a hottie—I'll give you all that. But you know, Ami-chan, that makes him hardly human. I like Tenten-san, too."

"That's so. . . mean, Mimi."

"But true, Ami." The older girl began bustling about again. "Mark my words. There's going to be some vicious heartbreaking in the future."

Sakura, at that point, had just started on the eleventh chapter of her "Theories in Chakra-based Cardioversion" textbook. It was seven in the evening.

End chapter. 23:40 021707

I give up. I was trying to finish Chapter 13 before posting this. It's been weeks though, so. . . sigh. Thanks for reading.


	13. Chapter 12: The Crossings

Disclaimer: Not mine. Borrowing from Kishimoto-sensei. ('Sides, if Naruto was mine, my brain would have detonated long ago.)

To Miko-chan, _gambatte sa chuunin--este, board exam mo!_

**Chapter 12: The Crossings**

The evening was cool, but not quite cold enough to deter customers from flocking the village's "downtown" area. The sky outside was a silken deep indigo, its stars not so much as embedded as embroidered with fine silver thread. It would have been pleasant to walk outside, provided both a light jacket and a close friend was among one's company.

Sakura had fine-tuned blocking out the murmur and chatter of the Crossings evening clientele into an art form. It was background music that varied nightly, an academic sort of accompaniment that facilitated her studying much better than stark silence. Tonight's crowd was on the small side and their voices served as lullaby—not very helpful at the moment. The text that buried her up to her nose were piling up on top of each other too quickly, making it challenging to distinguish one word from another.

Actually _digesting_ the content of the material was so one hour ago.

Hard, the doors swung open (highly dramatic, she was able to note absently); the wind chimes' dainty protest was discordant with the violent crash. The following thud woke her completely, as the jolt of the table shot up her elbows and to the chin her knuckles cradled. The stare she gave the man panting in front of her was clinical and detached. He was the beached fish she had resuscitated countless times, oh-so-long ago, in her early training days.

"Sasuke."

It wasn't a question.

"Sasuke's not here," she said levelly, though her fingertips were ice, her blood all in her feet, her fear astride her chest.

"Sasuke's not here," Naruto repeated in a snarl. "Sasuke can't be not here."

Her breathing hitched. "He's missing?"

"Missing?" Naruto snorted, only it was so violent it sounded more like a growl. "I know exactly where he is."

---

What started as a calm, rather idle day was unceremoniously pulverized the moment Hinata stepped home. The incongruous ambush rendered her so frazzled that the only thing that kept her contained was that boa constrictor of an assassin disguised as an obi. Otherwise, she would have long sputtered into a stupefied silence or endlessly babbled nonsense—both required a tad more lung expansion than she was currently capable of—and that record-breaking speed they managed to stuff her into a formal kimono would have gone to naught.

Perhaps, it was indeed the wholesome, feel-good afternoon with Haruno Sakura that contributed to her shattering demise, the mellowed, dreamy state that rendered her prone to her aunts' orchestrated pouncing. Still, Hinata couldn't find it in herself to regret her time with the pink-haired mednin. Besides, she seriously doubted she had the ability to prevail over her aunts' combined ministrations, even at her sharpest.

Feeling sorry for herself wasn't really helping the situation—not that she had time for it. She was stuck in the unforgiving enclosure of undressed wood, the smallest, coziest (ordinarily) tearoom in the mansion. The heat from the coal brazier was suffocating, and the abrasive texture of the ancient tatami mat under her nervous fingers was far from therapeutic. She willed herself to stop and breathe. Stop and breathe deeply.

Hinata looked up from her reflection on the bleak black surface of her strong, scalding cup of tea. Being caught off-guard was not an excuse; enemies didn't announce themselves before exploding into action. Trying to think back to Naruto-kun's anecdotes about his old teammate did not help at all— they were mostly jokes at the expense of the often silent shinobi. Still, she was expected to be an excellent hostess on top of everything else, so for the fifteenth time in that horrendously long period of ten full minutes, she spoke again.

"I just came from a meeting with your old teammate Sakura-san in a café called, 'Crossings.' Our conversations were interesting; it was a rare afternoon of relaxation."

"She studies there all the time," came the response. "Tuesdays and Thursdays, five hours."

"O-oh, really?" She couldn't help sounding deflated, and she decided to quit while ahead; what kind of a conversation could be built from that kind of a reply, anyway? "I didn't know that," she finished lamely.

It was probably the first time Hinata ever thought it: how she wished Neji-nii was in the room! The last she saw him was at the café, and he was the first one to leave. Doubtless, he was somewhere near, ever alert of her security, but if only he was there to disperse some of the stiff and awkward air, if only he could coolly appear in his usual manner and have a polite staring session with Sasuke-san and then, she could just scuttle off to one corner and somehow survive their combined recalcitrant prowess and—

Hinata froze, the image searing her brain.

Fervently, she retracted her silent plea.

So far, Sasuke-san had been consistently unenthusiastic to engage in conversation, but he didn't sound necessarily bored. Actually, she couldn't figure out how exactly he sounded like. Hinata had no clue what he could be thinking (understandably, she reasoned morosely). Except for the slightest curve of disdain on his lips, his face held no expression. She had no idea what he was there for in the first place. The logical step was to ask, of course, but then she supposed she was expected to already know that. (It added to the omniscient image of the Hyuuga clan.) And since she was expected to already know, she probably shouldn't be asking in the first place.

"Ah, Sasuke-san," she spoke anyway. "I should have asked at the onset of this meeting, and I apologize for not doing so: to whom do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

It was an elaborately constructed inquiry on his purpose. She hoped it shaved off the bluntness of her hopefully unapparent ignorance and lend itself, instead, as polite flattery. As she dreaded his response, the succinct one-liner that killed every opening she had tried, the meeting was miraculously intruded upon.

"Uchiha-san," came the quiet voice, after the quiet knock.

The dark young man rose smoothly. His uniform was impeccable, the only color about him the red and white of his clan's emblem. His stance was unselfconscious and his expression was still undecipherable. But it was then he spoke, the first time he did so without her words to follow after.

"Your kinsmen," he said.

Hinata started. "I beg your pardon?"

"You owe this. . . _pleasure_ to your kinsmen."

Then he was gone, and she was able to slump in unrestrained bemusement and a surprisingly profound sense of relief.

---

Rarely could the adjective "distracted," apply to Hyuuga Neji, especially while in the midst of his daily taijutsu exercises. Today, he would even admit to being a little irritable, what with all the information he recently received and the hassle he had undergone to acquire them. He kept to his duties, albeit in a decidedly more discreet approach. The heiress benefitted from more freedom, as he chose to separate from her more often, observing her and the world she moved in from afar. His relatives disapproved of his apparent complacency in the aftermath of the Chanting Falls incident, but he allowed this sort of thinking. Being outside gave him a certain objectivity that would inevitably become his invaluable shield, in case there was indeed a conspiracy against Hinata.

His constant presence muddied the water, so to speak. Case in point was the scenario behind the thin wooden divider between one of the minor house's training rooms and the convenient tea room beside it. Had Neji been included in that ridiculous tableau, whatever was supposed to happen might not happen at all. Then again, judging from the conversation next-door—the near non-existence of it, that is—Uchiha Sasuke might have already noted his presence.

Neji hit the polished wooden slats with a light thud, annoyed at both his skewed landing and the question of Sasuke. The former missing nin succumbing to external influence was a departure from his reputation as an uncooperative misanthrope. For the man to actually make an effort to extend himself beyond his small, restricted social circle was an outright aberration. Whatever Hyuuga Hanatarou had told him twelve nights ago was disgustingly effective.

Hinata-sama was obviously bewildered. At another time, Neji might have found her efforts to entertain the Uchiha amusing, but the implications of his visit was not conducive to humor, not in light of what he found out from Tenten.

The reminder of his meeting with his lithe team mate did not help sweeten Neji's mood.

"Only if you come closer," she had said earlier, while they sat in that sparsely peopled café. He didn't even pause to consider his answer.

"Oh, but you have to," she then said. Her smile was meant to be encouraging but the lengthening shadows of the afternoon turned it into a snarl, the bread knife she bandied about not helping her image. "Otherwise, I won't say a word."

He was unmoved by her threat.

She sighed, straightened a sleeve, and trained a grave look on him. "I met someone, just so you know."

"Hm," he said, disinterested.

"Shinobi, of course. A-class. Late twenty-ish. 6'2. He's cute." The tanned girl fidgeted, directing the bread knife to the sticky ball of rice in front of her. "Not cute-_cute_," she clarified hastily. "I mean, it's cute that his style's pretty eclectic: dyed scalp lock, bone collecting, that sort of thing. He's a member of this club the Serrators, and they're pretty badass. They don't do cute. He likes big weapons, like that carbon-coated scythe I've been drooling over for years." Tenten had continued to blather for a good ten minutes in style of her favorite character, love-struck ditz.

She described some of Bloodshank's favored forms of attack, vaguely detailed due to her deliberately flighty style of delivery. Also, Tenten had derived the information from Hinata's report on her encounter with the missing nin in Marima. At that point, Hinata-sama was reportedly barely coherent. Neji had been able to mentally supplement it with what little saw of the fight Bloodshanks lost to the Cloud nin Shinoda Iga.

The weapon expert also lauded Bloodshanks' formidable ability to replicate the jutsu of other ninjas.

"Like the sharingan?" Neji's doubt was as coolly cutting as his scorn.

"The comparison does spring to mind, but my boy does it even better. He can duplicate blood line limits."

"Like?" But his mind easily supplied examples: like the Gentle fist taijutsu, like the Hyuuga's arsenal of hidden abilities.

"Well, there are fewer documented instances," she said defensively. "Fewer survivors."

Perhaps, this was why they wanted Hinata-sama alive. If this was indeed their sole motive, however, to steal the secrets of the Byakugan, it's possible the issue of her safety had died with him. But if not. . .

Why Hinata, specifically? Was there a more specific purpose behind the duplication of the Byakugan? Was Bloodshanks' reported ability to replicate blood line limits even factual?

"Is he of Mist or of Stone?" Neji said shortly.

"He's been associated with both."

"But?"

"I told you, you have to come closer," came her sing-song reply.

He leaned across the table and stared her down. "Close enough?"

"Not quite," she mouthed, as she took him by the junction of his neck and jaw, the touch of her thumb svelte against a pulse point. He began to feel lightheaded before she was finally contented with the distance of her lips to his ear—barely a hairbreadth—for the deepening pressure of her touch against his neck vein was depriving him of that much blood, and the undulation of her breath as he spoke against his ear did even less to encourage wakefulness.

She relinquished him, just as the waitress, who had taken it into her head to clean the vacated tables beside theirs, finally left.

There was a pause before Neji spoke again.

"I want you to redirect your attention."

Tenten's voice was refreshingly back to it's usual no-nonsense timber, even as she answered with a smirk."Wouldn't you want to find out where my attention is at the moment before you say that?"

"You're going to Cloud," he quickly surmised.

"Bravo. Isn't that reconnaissance mission timely or what? You owe me big time, Hyuuga Neji."

Granted. Though the reminder had very slightly irked him.

With Tenten off investigating Hidden Cloud, Neji could shift his sights closer to home. Hanabi's unavailability was not lost on him; he regretted not aggressively investigating what his younger cousin knew while the opportunity had still been available. A Cloud nin's seeming involvement had indeed cast an unpleasant light to this whole business, and there was only one person to approach.

Hyuuga Hiashi.

---

The path to Hyuuga Hiashi consisted of various narrow halls—hardly halls, actually. The aged, rickety rat maze did not faze the young man, nor did he worry about having to find his way out again later. As labyrinthine as it looked, the mansion was hardly a fortress,. The winding passages had an ornate, ancient purpose about them, but that purpose was still to navigate a home.

Not that there was anything particularly homey about their treatment of him.

His impassive expression not withstanding, his face cracked into an almost spastic, rather mean little smirk. Uchiha Sasuke found it all rather amusing. It was obvious that Hyuuga Hinata had absolutely no clue what he was doing there. The stage was simply set-up; the players were cast into the fray without prior briefing.

Hinata wasn't particularly appealing or repelling, and that he found satisfactory. She was dressed in a kimono of benign tan, with the cut appropriate for her age, station, and situation. It was not her best attire, nor her worst, he knew, because everything was consciously designed to be so, to be equivocal. He was being weighed now, subtly but intently. There were eyes everywhere, well-hidden and clinical.

Even being placed in the lesser of their receiving rooms was not demeaning: they've demeaned their own heiress with the same action, if that was their intent. Then again, maybe she was being weighed, too?

He already knew what the Hyuuga patriarch was going to tell him, but that didn't initially fill him with any particular anticipation for what was to come. It would be flattering to think that Hyuuga Hiashi was actually waiting for him, but that would have been also delusional. This was all too calculated, too tightly orchestrated. And with Hinata herself ignorant of all this subterranean movements. . .

Naruto had on occasion described Hinata as guileless ( he didn't use the exact word, but he meant that). Of course, that dobe had an interestingly screwed up mentality, but Sasuke would grudgingly defer to his assessment of characters for the most part. His involvement in this, whatever it was, was a real and growing concern. Sasuke wasn't beloved in Konoha; it was a plain and simple fact.

Sasuke was actually _curious_.

Maybe he was just dodging shadows, but the possibility of him being the target of some malevolent plan by the Konoha government wasn't entirely nil. If it was indeed a game, he trusted himself to be nimble enough to play along. If it was just the usual absurdity of human courtship, he would accept it without complaint. He had already procrastinated too long on his duties.

And well, he had to start somewhere.

This was what prompted his decision to heed that advise, call it what you want, given to him several evenings ago: he had to start. Now, there were other reasons to continue with this. He wanted to know.

Hyuuga Hiashi was already positioned in a formal waiting room, tea at hand. Sasuke stopped short of his approach and nodded an unsmiling greeting to the older man.

"I know what your answer is," he said, as plainly as possible. It was just a statement of a fact, not an obnoxious bait.

Hiashi nodded. "Then I will waste no words for flatteries and platitudes. You are officially a suitor of my daughter Hinata as of today, Uchiha Sasuke. Be seated. I shall tell you your first trial."

Sasuke bowed politely and did as he was told. As he did, there was a passing sensation that turned his gut ice cold: there was somewhere he had to be. It went as quickly as it came. There was nowhere else he was supposed to be; it was impossible. He had only one commitment nowadays, and that was solely to the memory of his clan.

With an effort, he focused his attention to Hiashi's no-nonsense instructions. He was to go tomorrow afternoon. His objective was to find a ninja of the name Naga Yuuhi, formerly of the Stone. He was to gather information on his background, and more importantly, his involvement with the anarchist group Serrators. He was to go to the Land of Mist, the last place the man was seen. He was to report to the Godaime at the conclusion of his mission, when he has found the ninja Naga Yuuhi himself and taken him as captive or when proven irrevocably that the man has already ceased living and that the death was not by his hand.

Engrossed with the impending mission, Sasuke began to forget.

---

"I know exactly where he is."

Naruto noted Sakura's shoulders slump, the enormous relief in her sharp burst of exhalation. It only fueled his mounting ire. He felt it ball up at center of his belly, a clear threat of his nearing explosion.

"Come with me," he hissed, aware of the growing darkness infringing the periphery of his vision, of the suspended conversations in the general vicinity. "We can't talk here."

She followed with a terse nod, leaving behind her things and a reassuring smile at the cafe's proprietress, who usually came to tend to the evening customers. In the unlit alley just outside, Naruto began his tale.

"I was supposed to go to an S-class mission to find one of the people who tried to kill Hinata-chan in Mist—remember that?"

"In Marima, yes."

"Guess what happened when I went to get briefing."

The Godaime had been sitting in her office, peering at him with unreadable eyes. "The Hyuuga requested it," she had said nonchalantly. "It wasn't unreasonable, so I gave."

"It's stupid," he had huffed obstinately. "I wanted that mission!"

Tsunade had merely shrugged. "It's appropriate to assign it to Sasuke, anyway. I think it's one of those courting rituals."

He had gone ballistic.

"So that's where he is now," Naruto whispered furiously to his old teammate. "At the Hyuuga's, calling on Hinata-chan." He relinquished Sakura's shoulders, blue eyes blazing as he stalked about her still form. "So that's what Prince meant when he said something about a better guy for Hinata. So that's why he left Konoha. It was that bastard! Sasuke's Hinata's next suitor. He was talking about that bastard!"

There was a pause, then: "I don't see the problem," Sakura enunciated carefully. "He's an adult. He can make his own decis—"

"That's exactly what Tsunade-obaachan said! That he-can-make-his-own-decisions bullshit."

"Hinata can, too," Sakura added in the same neutral voice. "I don't see the problem."

"No. No, she can't!" Naruto huffed, almost horse-like as his pacing came to resemble an irate stallion's prancing. "I'll go talk to Sasuke."

The blond was about to leap off, the string of curses he kept to himself making him antsy, but a steel band around his wrist stopped his ascent.

"Sakura-chan?" He tested her grip with a light tug, but she merely tightened it. He yelped, in spite of himself. "What–?"

"Don't pretend you don't see," she said, face hidden. The shadow of the cafe's building had seemingly decapitated her. "You're much smarter than most people believe, Naruto. You know Sasuke never does anything without a reason. You know his position here in Konoha is delicate, his station baser than a common thief's. You know there are certain influences that even Tsunade-sama can't control. You know that."

"What do you want me to do?" Naruto finally, grudgingly said.

"Wait for him to talk to us."

"He never does."

"We're his friends."

"Did that ever count?"

"Naruto—"

"Let go my arm," he said tightly. "I'm not gonna do anything."

"I didn't say you do that either," she said calmly. "Sleep it off first. Let's not be rash."

". . . Yeah."

She returned his arm. Tonight, there would be finger-shaped bruises on that wrist. Tomorrow, it would be gone.

March 29, 2007 (3:20pm)


	14. Chapter 13: Prehensile, Reprehensible

Disclaimer: Sasuke isn't gift-wrapped in this story; I hope that's convincing enough that I have no aspirations of owning Naruto and am merely borrowing for fun.

**Chapter 13: Prehensile/reprehensible**

It was the same room he was brought to yesterday; Sasuke knew it couldn't possibly have shrunk within the last ten hours. Nonetheless, the rhythmic sensation was vise-like, the walls contracting, slurping his head into some malformed invagination. He scowled in irritation, resisted the urge to rub his throbbing temples. At least, being inside that monstrosity, he was fairly sure they wouldn't scrimp on tea. The caffeine slowly made its way to his brain.

The room was factually, dimensionally bigger today. Whatever divider was there yesterday was gone and one of the walls was now a window into a modest-sized training room. It was from there the heiress shamefacedly emerged from, stopping her exercise, as soon as she noted his presence. He didn't know if he was supposed to be impressed by her form and skills, but he figured that was the idea being conveyed by the whole setup.

Hinata had known this time that he was coming to call on her today. The time, however, which was firmly specified on his part, was apparently overlooked in her instructions. She was apologetic and puzzled; at least, she knew what he was there for.

She offered him breakfast, and when at first he didn't budge, hesitantly began eating herself. He followed suit, because the arrangement had been for him to breakfast with Hinata and gather information about his target.

Again, the dull curiosity straddled his consciousness. He would have been more equipped to deal with it, if not for a severe lack of sleep—which wouldn't have been irritating by itself, he grudgingly admitted, since it happened a lot. It was the cause of said lack of sleep that threatened to send him into conniptions. He rubbed his forehead in an attempt to ward off a tension headache on top of everything else.

"Sasuke-san?" ventured a voice timidly. "A-are you okay?"

"Yeah," he snapped."If not for a certain _dobe_ calling at some godforsaken hour, I would be."

He almost wished he had held his tongue, but to hell with it! He had only been asleep for an hour when that loudmouth idiot happened to decide to make a courtesy call. At three in the morning.

"H-hey, Sasuke!" Naruto had yelled through the phone line, a suspicious response to Sasuke's disgruntled, "hello?"

". . ."

"I–haha! I just wanted. . . I– I just thought we haven't bumped into each other recently. Busy, ya know? And I thought I should check up on you, since we're talking about a bastard like you, and bastards like you are usually up to no good, right? Right, right. And uh. . . Uh. . . So what are you up to nowadays, anyway? Not that I'm saying you're up to anything! I just thought—damn it, this isn't working—I thought that maybe we should all catch up on what we're doing and stuff because we're friends like that and we shouldn't be such assholes to each other and other, other people and. . . " the bunch of run-on sentences degenerated into a string of muttered curses.

"So what the hell do you want?" Sasuke wearily asked after a few moments of awkward silence.

"H-hey! What the hell kind of an answer is that? Are you trying to pick a fight?!"

". . ."

"Yeah, yeah! I think _you're_ definitely trying to pick a fight, aren't ya? That's fine with me, Sas_uke_. Where'd ya wanna meet? Hah? Hah?! You know what? Never mind what! I haven't slept on it yet. Fine. I'll sleep on it. You hear?! I'll sleep on it!"

Sasuke had stood a full three minutes before the phone, fighting off the urge make a run for the blond's apartment. In retrospect, it was a good thing Naruto didn't make his "courtesy call" physically. Otherwise, Sasuke might have needed to break his own fingers to keep from strangling his old teammate; more likely, he wouldn't even hesitate to go on full throttle, no damned pun intended. His calmer, more detached, more resigned self vaguely wondered if the other had been able to sleep on it—he certainly hadn't.

He looked up to his breakfast companion and was met with a slightly ashen face, frozen in the act of biting down on a dumpling. Sasuke definitely felt a distinct twitch quake his temples.

"What?" he finally muttered. "You're not the damned fool provoking sleeping people at three in the morning."

Hinata hastily bit off the piece of pastry already in her mouth and laughed around the whole chunk of it uneasily.

"And I'm not Sakura either, so don't try choking," he added irritably.

Which of course, only sent the pale girl into a fit of coughing. Sasuke felt the twitch turn into a definite pop.

"Obviously, I won't try to kill a fox in its own den," he said testily. And why would he? What the hell would he gain with assassinating this thin waif of an heiress? He couldn't even maim the actual person he really wanted to hurt right now, which was why for the umpteenth time, he snorted over the ridiculousness of his running reputation as a capricious, sadistic killer.

There was a period of silence as Hinata seemingly followed his advice and chewed on her food carefully, before washing it down with a few sips of tea. After three more mouthfuls, she finally spoke, thoughtful.

"I suppose, I can tell you," she murmured. "Since it's your mission now."

Sasuke waited.

"There's a certain group of missing nin that some people regard as my. . . assassins."

"The Serrators," the Uchiha supplied coolly.

"R-right. And out of the four involved in the um, t-the Marima incident, only one is presumed to be alive."

"The target, Naga Yuuhi."

Hinata nodded. "Apparently, this was originally going to be Naruto-kun's mission. I found out about this—about this whole mission, actually—from one of our elders last night. So. . . that's why I think he was picking a fight with you. Because he was mad about that."

There was a pause.

". . . I'm listening," Sasuke prompted after a while.

Hinata fidgeted. "Um, that's it."

"That's it?"

"Yes." Then, hastily, "It's just that Naruto-kun once said that he'll gladly help in beating up the people who tried to kill me, so I think he was mostly upset about that." The ordinarily cool girl seemed embarrassed when she said this, Sasuke noted. Her hands were shaking as she replaced her tea cup on the table. "Maybe he thought you were taking away the only opportunity left for him to do that. Since the others are dead already."

"Sounds like a plan," the avenger said ominously. All the more reason to catch this Naga Yuuhi person; anything that pissed off that dobe was usually a worthy cause. Sasuke suddenly found the morning wasn't as annoying as it initially was. "Give me the briefing on the Marima and the Chanting Falls incident," he ordered, now finally perusing the spread of food before him.

That should make up for one sleepless night of aggravation, he thought.

---

The silence reverberated throughout the cavernous sitting room, more piercing than the keenest wail of a mourner's dirge, blunter than the dullest thud of an executioner's blade. It did not help that the meeting began with somber topics in order—now it resembled a murder trial. Even Neji's determined grimness eventually deteriorated into damning contempt.

". . . that's it?" he finally deigned to ask.

"Yes."

"You might have bartered your brother's life for something more substantial." Neji clasped his mouth shut as soon as those words left it, his lips a thin line. "That was uncalled for," he added brusquely. "My apologies, Hiashi-sama."

The clan head said nothing.

"That's it." Neji found it harder to work his jaw against this pause. "A life for a life. A body for a body."

Hiashi nodded. "It is so. Konoha retained the body of the Cloud ambassador. Mine—my brother's—was theirs in exchange. There was no inquisition from either side. Cloud accepted Leaf's claim that Sanada's death was brought about by his treachery."

"And we accept Kumigakure no Sato's claim of non-involvement in Hinata-sama's kidnapping."

"Yes."

"In other words, the fault was placed on both the two wayward elements. Neither you nor Sanada acted with the premeditation of your respective villages."

"Sanada merely saw an opportune moment. I killed him to regain my child. Whether or not there is anything underneath this, we will never know. That was the price of peace."

"The price of peace," Neji repeated. "That's it?"

Under the gray of diluted daylight—blinds darkened the room into a seeming dusk and interspersed candelabra contributed weak circles of incandescence—the Hyuuga leader's face was drawn. "What else do you wish to hear, nephew?" he asked almost tiredly.

Neji shook his head once. "Very well, Hiashi-sama. I'll take my leave."

He bowed stiffly and exited the room.

In spite of his discontent over the scarcity of anything prehensile to be discovered in the bowels of the mansion, he had to admit he was surprised his uncle even admitted him to his presence. Neji had quickly exhausted the family records accessible to him, had already perused them several times, but there was nothing written that chronicled his father's death, nor the circumstances that lead to it. And nobody else would speak. . .

It was uncanny how frankly his uncle seemed to answer his questions, even retelling the events that cause his brother to take his stead in death. Neji had heard the story before, once, as a child razed blind by unrelenting hatred for the Main family. It was an emotional story for Hiashi to tell, a story that broke the stoic, barely human image of the Hyuuga clan head. Neji even toyed with the notion. . . was it actually an indirect manifestation of paternal love? This investigation was after all for his daughter's sake.

Almost eighteen years ago, those events happened. Far too distant to have ramifications on the current events, one would think. Perhaps not.

That day had been momentous for both him and his cousin. It was the day that marked her third birthday, the day that indelibly marked him as a member of the branch family. It meant he could then be controlled by a member of the main family, using a simple hand sign that impelled with an unreasoning fear of death. It meant that if he were to die, he would never betray his secrets, would carry them all to his grave, particularly the secret of the Byakugan.

It was also a day that was important for the rest of Konohagakure no Sato. Peace was a rare, expensive commodity, and a chance for peace was apparently parading through the streets of the village with the appropriate pomp and ado—only the Hyuuga were conspicuously absent. An ambassador was there to cement alliance between the Cloud and the much-ravaged Leaf.

How could anyone have known that the man's true purpose was the secret of the Byakugan? Indeed, who knew if that was, in fact, his only true purpose. The very same night, he seized Hinata-sama. Hiashi-sama recovered his daughter, but had slain the ambassador in the process. Cloud demanded Hiashi's body in reparation. In a strange combination of both rebellion and fraternal love, it was Hirashi, the twin brother, who stepped up in his place.

That was the day Neji lost his father.

Presently, Neji was stalking the halls of the main house, elegant, noiseless, irascible. His uncle failed to offer anything new or promising. The story, however, was not without merit.

He had a name now.

----

The morning had not been very kind to a certain temporarily defunct ninja girl—not to her nerves anyway. As it had followed an even more bewildering evening, she opted not to complain but instead rejoiced in the fact that it seemed to be all done and over with. It turned out, Sasuke-san was going to that mission in Mist, to hunt for the last Serrator. He was merely gathering data, particularly since she was one of the those who personally encountered the rouge group. ( Though it was a tad exasperating that even such a minor thing needed permission from her father. Sasuke-san's elaborately-staged audience with her father made her nervous for some time. In retrospect, however, she couldn't believe she even suspected the Uchiha of being another potential suitor. It was an embarrassing conjecture brought by paranoia.)

It also seemed that Konoha was taking the investigation a notch higher. There were now more concerned with the animated corpse they had found on their way to Chanting Falls with Amarillo-san more than a week ago. This made Hinata somewhat happier. At least, it wasn't all about her, anymore. It would be terrible if such an inordinate amount of village resources was being used solely to satisfy her family's paranoia.

She looked forward to an even more pleasant afternoon. Sakura-san had invited her to join her once again during her afternoon studying session. Hinata had cheerfully accepted yesterday, and was now making her way to the mednin offices with a spry to her steps that branded her as just another ordinary, carefree girl. (That may be only from behind, however. Her eyes would always belie the innocent image projected by her girlish civilian clothing. When she turned, people saw that she was doubtless a kunoichi, a Hyuuga, and gave her a respectful wide berth.)

Most of Konoha's government buildings were situated about the Hokage faces on the mountainside. It took a pleasant breezy walk to reach them. Today was actually on the cold side, but Hinata found herself sweating lightly during the uphill climb. The buildings here were made of cut stone and cement for the most part, eliminating the rather slapdash quality of the largely wooden and metal downtown. It was less colorful and far easier to get lost in. The mednin quarters was actually cut into the base of the mountain. Some said it snaked deep into the bowels of the stone Hokages, but nobody had seen enough to attest to that (or rather, nobody had spoken enough of it).

Hinata was somewhat conspicuous in her heavy jumper dress of brown corduroy. Everybody else she ran into were in full uniform, some even sporting ANBU masks. The complex seemed busy, bustling, but it didn't have the hair-thin tension that characterized Konoha in crisis.

Again, it was her eyes that became her ticket. Even among ninjas she was given a comfortable berth to move through, some individuals even nodding to her solemnly. Sakura had requested to meet her in a certain scroll room in the mednin headquarters. It was the only one open to the public, so she had no trouble locating it.

She ran into Sakura almost immediately.

The mednin was in full battle attire, the near-everyday clothing she had worn in her later teenage years. On her full-grown body, however, the effect was subtly different. Her black leather skirt fit her hips like a glove, like those she wore to protect her knuckles when executing her walloping punches. Her boots, ominous against the stone floor, were scarred and toughened by both age and industrious maintenance. The buckles and chains that held various medical and martial paraphernalia in place gleamed with a deadly smartness. Not a single kunai head was visible, but Hinata was sure they were merely skillfully hidden, could be drawn at ready or hurled at an enemy at a heartbeat. The blood-red canvas tunic hugged her slender body tightly. Sakura was a little fuller now—granted by not that much, but the cloth still strained where the zippers met. The hitai-ate headband was tied obliquely around her forehead, instead of its usual position around her temples, where it was tied down at the nape to keep her pink locks from her face. This Sakura screamed I-am-kunoichi, and for a brief moment, Hinata felt sheepishly frumpy in her plain domestic dress.

"Oh, you're here, Hinata-chan," Sakura said almost curiously, though her eyes were unsurprised, glinted like marbles in the cold indoor light.

Hinata smiled shyly and stepped forward, almost trotting in her rush. "I'm not late, am I?"

Like a school girl. A giddly little school girl meeting an idolized senpai. Hinata felt her cheeks burn at the ludicrous image, but was rather thrilled at the thought in spite of herself.

"Actually," Sakura said slowly. "I have to beg off today. I know it was me who told you to come here today so we can have lunch together and hang out while I study, but something came up, so. . ."

Hinata shook her head and smiled a wider smile to assure the other. "It's not your fault," she said, though of course, she was deeply disappointed.

"Yeah. . ." Sakura fidgeted with a buckle, now more like her usual self. "So next Tuesday at the Crossings?"

Hinata nodded, the corner of her eyes crinkling further. "Yes."

Sakura smiled at her, then speedily went her way. It was a very warm, very heartfelt smile, but Hinata felt like ice was poured down her back. It was a warrior that looked at her through those green eyes, a blank-hearted entity that gazed out through corundum-hard windows.

Hinata shivered, shaken by an exchange that lasted a fraction of a second. She stared with clouded eyes as the kunoichi continued her marionette's walk down the long, shady corridor, absently wondering if that was how it felt like, never mind that the other party was also a girl, to be jilted.

----

It felt particularly cold for one autumn day, considering the sun had already reached its zenith. An old wound, physiologically long-healed, ached more these days, so Nara Shikamaru was feeling a tad more ancient and decrepit than usual as he ascended the long, spiraling staircase that led to his office. What, or rather whom, he found already ensconced in his much-trampled-upon lair further soured his mood, especially since they weren't included in the official to-be-seen-_today_ list.

Ino, he could guess her purpose. She'd be ragging on him about that damned organization of hers, alternately begging and demanding for his "diplomatic" expertise on some idiotic matter or another. It was true he and Temari of the Sand got along well, but he couldn't figure out why Ino was so obsessed with the Sound kunoichi, or why she seemed to think he was the expert on the woman. He would be able to set up a meeting between the two women, given time, but it's not like Temari would drop everything she was doing on his behalf. She liked him, but not enough for that.

Not enough was the operative phrase. It seemed nothing he did was ever found by a woman to be "enough."

Now, Hyuuga Neji. Likely, Neji was there for information. He probably wasn't going to be as noisy, but Shikamaru counted on him to even top Yamanaka Ino at persistence on acquiring what he wanted.

"State your purpose," he drawled, as he collapsed on his hard-backed, hard-bottomed chair. "Ladies first," he added dryly.

"Not appreciating the condescending manner," the blond replied icily. "I came for an update, if it's not too troublesome?"

"I'm assuming that's a rhetorical question."

"I hardly care what you assume, as long as I get what I came for."

"Figures. Neji?"

"Information," came the quiet reply.

The heading, "Information," could hold practically anything under the sun underneath it. Nonetheless, Shikamaru felt more confident about being able to finish the business with Neji faster. So. . .

"Since politeness has apparently become offensive these days," he said, sighing. "You go first, Neji." A pause. "You want her here?"

"I am not a dog!" Ino snapped. "If I'm not wanted here, just say so and I'll. . . well, tough luck!"

Shikamaru decided not to answer and merely added the scenario to his growing list of why-I-badly-need-a-secretary notes he had been collating for three years now.

"Is that okay with you, Neji?" he said instead.

"I leave it to your discretion," came the reply. "It will be you divulging information. Whether or not they are meant to be secrets, I wouldn't know."

Shikamaru merely gave him a sour look. "What do you want to know about?"

"Kunigakure no Sato. The ascendency race."

"Weren't Cloud nins here recently?" Ino interrupted.

"The question has probably something to do with it," Shikamaru pointed out, wished he hadn't, then sighed in resignation. "Do you mind?" he asked her.

Surprisingly, Ino backed down with a mock-placating gesture. "Imagine I'm a wallflower."

"Would, if I could," he muttered. Promotions had their ups and downs. Mostly downs: he didn't have a reliable escape route in place yet.

"I didn't say you _treat_ me like one."

Neji cleared his throat.

"Sorry," the blonde said with a coquettish smile. "Some people just don't have a drop of professionalism in their blood."

"Anything specific about Cloud?" Shikamaru asked. "Just their politics?"

"Whatever's relevant to Konoha," Neji said. "I'll move to specifics from there." Man, the Hyuuga sounded so patient. Shikamaru wondered what would happen if he sicced Ino on him for a whole day. Then again, he decided he couldn't do such an uncharitable thing to a fellow shinobi, after all.

"Give him an overview first," Ino was saying. "Topography, population, politics. . . that sort of thing. You tend to ramble otherwise."

"Overview," he muttered to himself as he leaned back. "Let's see. Kunigakure no sato is in Lightning country, a huge territory in the northeast—"

"Mentally," she added hastily. "We don't have to hear it."

Shikamaru ignored her. "One of the five great shinobi countries. Most of the population live in the cities and their suburbs, though commerce is based largely on coal-mining, quarrying. Logging to lesser extent. Textile. 50 hills and mountains. The rest mostly tundra-like, largely uninhabited by people. Cotton fields. Flax. Sheep. Lots of sheep. Extends to the north. . . Mountain chains in the southeastern, southern areas. They have an extensive coastline, but most of the its shielded off by the mountains—very effective border actually. Their fishing industry doesn't quite top the Water country's naturally, but they've quartered most of the global market for giant clams and squids. And snow crabs. Like 'em steamed. Lots of butter."

"Very nice, Shikamaru," Ino said enthusiastically. "But can we skip the culinary parts? Mr. Handsome Taciturn here would probably like to go to lunch at some point, like me, and you're not helping preserve our patience."

"Fine, I'll move on to the weather. Wet, miserable. Sporadic snow storms for 5 months. Thunderstorms most of the rest of the year—"

"Lightning Country, you know," his old team mate interjected.

Shikamaru shifted his eyes to her, silent.

The kunoichi had the grace to feel abashed. "I'm just saying!"

The shadow expert continued. "Kunigakure no Sato is largely founded on plateau—literally hidden in the clouds. They carved terraces on their mountains, where they plant crops. They don't do a lot of rice there. It's a marvel, reportedly, but few people outside Cloud had actually seen it. Their economy within the village is still kind of land-based mostly, so they tend to be really clannish and really strict about inheritance, be it with wealth or with techniques."

"They're government's oligarchical?" Neji spoke up.

"Well, they've set up something to try to get away from that, especially with their affinity for family feuds." Shikamaru paused. "Several generations ago, they chose a man whom they believed represented the best of them. He, of course, became the first Raikage. "

"Similar with Konoha. The Raikage was their unifying power. Their identity as a village started with him."

"Yep. Basically. It was very selective, actually."

"Really?" Ino was startled. "They were able to agree on just one person?"

Shikamaru scratched his head. "The first time, they did. Eventually, they had to come up with a process."

"A process, huh? Aren't Cloud nins supposed to be tending towards anarchy these days?"

"I'll get to that. In their elections, votes don't weigh the same, coming from everybody. The general populace's vote counts for twenty-five percent. Another twenty-five counts for the clan heads' votes. The remaining fifty percent's from an assembly of advisors. Now the thing is, they can't just call an election. They can only do that if there is no Raikage. Example, the previous one died without designating a successor."

"So it's not really an electorate process," objected Ino.

"Considering the condition of the current Raikage, you can say that the next one will likely be chosen that way."

"They've been waiting for the current Raikage to die for years," Neji said.

"He's been ill for years." Shikamaru nodded. "It's been what? Fifteen years?"

"There's been assassination attempts."

"Lots. Nobody's ever succeeded. He has very rabid loyalists, let's say."

"So Cloud is being ruled by the assembly, and has been steadily spiraling towards anarchy these past ten years."

Another nod. "There are thirty-three members of the assembly—their positions are permanent for life. The general populace, ninjas nor not, can usually be browbeaten into submission, and clan heads more or less choose themselves, their clan's candidate, or an ally's."

"Which makes the assembly the crux of all the political maneuvering."

"Bingo. Fourteen of them have been assassinated in the span of fifteen years. They've been replaced by more or less the same electorate process they use for choosing a Raikage."

"The Raikage's disease makes him incapable of choosing a successor or is his capacity to do so in question?"

Shikamaru frowned thoughtfully. "One of the mednins could probably explain this better. It's some sort of degenerative thing that attacks the brain. It's a horrible disease in the sense that, the mind is actually the last thing to go, instead of the other way around."

"The higher functioning part of the brain remains intact while its other functions cease?"

"Yeah. Basically, you become trapped in what'll eventually become a corpse. To be specific, it's the motor functions that are really affected. Most of the senses remain intact. Can't move, can't talk. The guy's probably not even breathing by himself."

"They're waiting for a chance of cure or holding off the eventual descent of chaos?"

"Both probably."

"You guys are carrying on like its all nice and peachy," interrupted Ino in a sickened tone. "Foreign nin or not, it's still a person you're talking about."

"I'm obviously not the one short of compassion here," Shikamaru pointed out. "If you'll deliver it for me, I'll gladly send along a kunai to his heart."

"Is Konoha somehow responsible for this?" Neji suddenly asked.

"It's not impossible," the part-time deer-keeper admitted. "But it's not likely, either. You gotta admit, it succeeded in keeping the Clouds occupied in their own world. So my answer to your question would be. . . as good as anybody's guess."

"Many of the Clans put forth their respective heads or their successors as candidates?"

"More or less."

"And the leading contenders?"

"Rjuten of the Singing Reeds. Abu of the Blue Abyss. Haneyoka, a family of genjustsu masters. Sakurakoji, the oldest clan in Cloud."

"Sanada," added Ino with a certain pride. "Sanada Meiro is a contender. She is the Founding Mother of the Clique in Lightning country."

"How come you don't refer to yourself as the Founding Mother of the Clique in Fire country?"

"Shut up. It's just semantics."

"Sanada?" Neji said.

"Sanada," Shikamaru repeated with a long-suffering sigh.

"I see."

Shikamaru turned a shrewd glance at him. "You've gotten the information you wanted?"

"Somewhat."

"Good. Feel free to consult me whenever something else comes up. We'll continue this another time." He straightened. "Okay, Ino, it's your turn."

Ino made a face. "Nah," she said. "All that politics talk ruined my mood. It's my day-off today. I'd rather do day-off stuff, after slaving for a whole week what with reconnaissance mission and all that." She glanced down at her nails. "It think it's spa day today. Want to come?"

". . . Think I'll pass."

"Anyway, you owe me lunch, Shikamaru."

Amazingly, the said genius's brain failed to catch up to her line of thinking fast enough. "Why?" he blurted out.

"Because you're an idiot for forgetting. I'm letting you off the hook this time, so you really owe me big time. My next days off would be twelve days from now. Get me a meeting with Temari-san by then, will you?"

Shikamaru very wisely did not retort to that as Ino glided out of the room.

"What are you waiting for, slowpoke?" Ino had popped her blonde head back into the room impatiently. "I'm a very busy woman. Let's get a move on!"

The aforementioned slowpoke sunk further into his slouch, resigned. "Neji," he said. "You're not doing anything, are you? 'Cause you're coming with me."

Neji was looking out the window. "Aa," he said after a few moments of silence. "Let's pick up Hinata-sama en route."

Never mind that Neji agreed to an impromptu lunch date without any seeming serious deliberation. For some odd reason, the Hyuuga seemed. . . sympathetic? Shikamaru let it be. "That's good then," he said instead and rose from his seat.

At least, with the Hyuuga heiress in tow, Ino might be shamed into a semblance of civility.

00:29 060407

Next chapter: Sasuke's mission and it's aftermath; more people talking (or in some cases, not talking)

Thanks for reading. :)


	15. Chapter 14: Admonishments, Apologies

Disclaimer: If I owned the characters in this story, I would be lazing around in Florida. With cake. And ice cream. And no waiting for long lines. Yep.

Ah, belated happy birthday, Jam.

**Chapter 14: Admonishments, Apologies**

It actually rained a lot in Konohagakure no Sato, a rather unremarkable trait of the village, as people have gotten very used to it. There was never any flooding, for the copious waters were speedily sucked up by the towering trees that hid the village. There rarely ever were particularly violent storms—at least, nothing major enough to wreak much general damage.

No. Mother nature had little to do with the instances wherein the village was leveled or torn asunder.

Today, it was raining. It was a vertical, heavy sort of rain, the type that was comprised of big, fat droplets that almost looked like gumdrops midair, the ones that rendered one waterlogged after even a few seconds of exposure. Hinata noticed that it was so, because she had gotten caught in the midst of it on her way home. It was just sheer luck that she had an umbrella with her, sheer luck that Lee-san had quirkily pressed it upon her when she left the academy under sunny blue skies, just in case, _just_ in case, it rained.

Lo and behold, it did.

The ninja academy was where she spent most of her time these days. Occasionally, sensei were spirited away for some mission or another that needed their particular expertise. She usually covered for a class or so, sometimes merely supervising the older students. Other days she would spend at Konoha government offices, volunteering her free time for even the most mundane of things—copying scrolls, rearranging files, delivering paperwork—anything, anything to while it all away.

She noticed that it was raining, because somehow, the rain felt pretty reflective of how she felt inside. She wasn't melancholic, disconsolate, nor depressed. She felt fairly serene, easy, free-falling. . . random. What was behind this rain? What was meant to come after it? She suspected it wasn't as simple as it presented itself. Though not quite the proverbial silence before the storm, the skies hinted the coming of something more. . . granted the skies were already lightening up. Granted the air was dead-still.

There was no wind.

Hinata walked along, watching where her feet touched intently, her skirt judiciously hiked to keep away from the damp earth. She shared her path with very few people, so she was somewhat confident she wasn't going to bump into anybody. Even with that, however, she was proven wrong.

It was her forehead that hit someone's shoulder, her umbrella that smacked against that someone's face. It was a pretty hard impact—the said someone must have been running. Hinata tottered almost comically, imbalanced. The other person caught her before she toppled over.

"Hinata-chan, you should watch where you're going."

She looked up; he wasn't looking down. Naruto was scanning the gray horizon behind her, also feeling the coming storm, perhaps. He looked down at her then, briefly, the blues of his eyes vivid against the general gloom, smiled.

"And right back at me," he said sheepishly. "Sorry."

The tall young man released her shoulders, shifted his eyes back to the skies behind her. She was tempted to look: what was there that drew his attention, anyway?

"Ah, Naruto-kun," she said as she suddenly recalled something important. "About that mission last–"

"Speaking of missions," he interrupted. "I'm kinda running late. Sorry, I gotta run."

"Oh. Okay."

He flashed her another grin, turned to go, then stopped. "Oh yeah. Hinata-chan, you don't have anything to tell me, right?"

Hinata blinked, bemused. "Well, as I was going to say, about that mission last—"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm really gonna be late, so never mind. Forget I asked." He scratched his head. "Uh, it was really nice bumping into you, Hinata-chan. Not the _bumping_ bumping part. . . but you know what I mean, right?"

The blond flickered from sight. Hinata stood on the deserted street, the skewed umbrella on hand. She wondered what was it about that odd little meeting that reminded her so much of the puzzling encounter with Sakura-chan yesterday.

Well.

She straightened the umbrella and continued to walk home.

---

The hunt was an exhilarating high, an experience seared by both fire and ice. The fire was in his body, his blood, in the surge of energy that powered the muscles responsible for the impossibly high leaps, in the fierce entrance and exit of air in his lungs, in the powerful, efficient contractions of the heart that propelled the whole system. The ice was in his mind, in the blank piece of canvas that bore bits and pieces of the puzzles, disarrayed clues slowly gravitating in place, merging at a focal point to form a brilliant, piercing answer. . .

There.

It took him four days to find the missing nin Naga Yuuhi. Despite the detailed study of his movements from Konoha's intelligence web, Sasuke was hard-pressed to keep up with the fugitive's tail. The pattern belonged to a man on the run, a man groping for the end of a rope that was fraying, unwinding into an inexorable demise, a man who didn't feel secure enough to keep himself hidden anywhere, felt that there was no such place in existence.

For the prey to return to the Water country was a gamble. The Village Hidden in Mist would be the last place he could procure welcome—what with their vicious head hunters on the look out for the Serrators. And with his known comrades all dead and accounted for, the only purpose of his coming was possibly an attempt to find a place he was least expected to be found in. This dour pilgrimage made it no less dangerous for the Konoha nin in pursuit.

Sasuke's ultimate goal did not involve death, but information. He was confident that the prey wasn't running from himself, and while that exhibited his prowess and stealth as a hunter, it did not flatter him totally. Sasuke hissed in fleeting irritation; his hidden opponent was in the lead.

The Water country was an archipelago. Its main island could be likened to a gigantic obsidian egg, hurled against the face of the planet to fracture into a torturous land mass teeming with majestic waterfalls and deadly rapids, coastlines that shifted from wave-lambasted crags to lazy, slow-eddied mangroves. The lush rainforests of the inland was akin to those of Fire country and this held a sense of familiarity. It was a perfect playground for animals of their kind: the hawk, overhead, hounding the scampering field mouse; the snake, hidden among the vegetation, silent and tensed, a coiled spring ready to snatch the prey from the hunting bird's talons—

The serpent slithered closer, its powerful senses attuned to the struggle, the desperate, one-sided game. It must act now, or the prize would be lost. He must strike first, his venom to incapacitate, not kill, save this vermin from the raptor—perhaps, dispose of it in the process?—whatever was necessary. The game of games would then start later. The hunt would shift to the incorporeal, into the confines of the labyrinthine mind, where time spun in circles, where a lifetime of memories were made concurrent, where a thousand mirrors dissected and distributed the soul into minute, multiple hells.

The hidden viper deliberated even as it slid into its optimum state. If it morphed into the dragon it was legendary for, it would be able to win, hands down, both rival hunter and prize clutched in each claw. But the fee demanded in the borrowing of such power was immense, far too much, perhaps. . . and he—

_hesitated_

—stopped.

Sasuke stood at the termination of an overhang, the thin precarious slab of stone ready to topple down the steep ravine underneath with one wrong movement. Water roiled far, far below, the continual spray of it, the tiny airborne droplets, misted his face, his hair, and hammered against his skull as it thundered down thousands of feet.

Down there, Naga Yuuhi was dying.

Uchiha Sasuke watched impassively. Even if he went to the other the fastest way possible—which involved a lot free air and a horrendous amount of gravity to contend with—he wouldn't make it in time. Besides, the other hunter lingered, knew of his presence, and made no attempt to hide or evade him. An ensuing fight would be pointless and unnecessary. . . though not precisely unwanted from his vantage point.

Sasuke now knew exactly to whom he lost.

---

It had never been easy to kill. To strike with a blade and hit one's mark was easy enough. In such cases, death was almost incidental, a by-product of a struggle for survival. An assassination was no little thing, in his opinion, but he had met a few people who contraindicated that statement. Naruto was lucky; nobody whose opinion he respected had ever begrudged him of his scruples. He had a weird feeling, though, that this uneasiness wasn't at all related to the mission he had just finished.

(Damn right. The death of the slave-trafficker was almost satisfying. Not the killing itself. Just the very fact that there was one less person like that in the world was somehow right.)

But there was something else. There was something he had left half-done. There was something else that kept bothering him and wouldn't go away, kinda like jock itch.

His guts clenched.

He wanted to talk to Sakura-chan as soon as possible. The restraints she placed upon him were mere words, but he couldn't decide what to do next, with their constant presence at the back of his mind. His instincts screamed for him to find Sasuke now—and Hinata-chan, too, but Sasuke would go first—but he still didn't know what to say to either of them, and maybe Sakura-chan has some ideas. . .

Finding the mednin would be easy. As soon as he could get a move on, that is.

Naruto practically had to crawl out of his apartment, exhausted. His stomach was not cooperating with him at all, seemingly unable to hold its contents from coming out either way. Iruka-sensei did always tell him to chew his food properly, but he was in such a hurry on his way home that he scarfed down four bowls of ramen in ten minutes—and those weren't even Ichiruki products! Vaguely, he wondered whether that fancy-pansy. . . restaurant owner in that neighboring town was trying to poison him. That rabbit-toothed grease-ball never did appreciate his patronage there, that bastard.

Sakura actually found him first, bent double as he rode another crest of spasms.

"Naruto?!" she exclaimed. "What—?"

"Sakura-chan," he bemoaned, half-heartedly spitting out the taste of bile from his mouth. "My belly keeps going doki-doki."

Sakura blinked. "The kyuubi's in love?"

"It's not funny!"

"You're stomach won't go doki-doki," she explained patiently. "It'll. . . well, it'll gurgle, probably."

"Whatever the sound effects, it hurts."

"You overate again?"

"No, but I broke my speed record."

"I don't think it has anything to do with." Sakura sighed. "Come with me. You probably have food poisoning."

She walked at a leisurely pace back to her house, a morose blond in tow. She gave him a spoonful of some "mysterious tonic" and a cup of warm tea to soothe his belly. Then:

"Anything else I can do for you idiot before I go back to studying?"

Naruto was quiet for a few moments.

". . . Hey," the mednin prompted. "You okay?"

"I was gonna ask the same about you."

"Me?" Sakura frowned. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm not gonna fall for that."

"For what?" she scoffed. "Hey, the last time I checked, you're the patient here."

Naruto trained his eyes directly at hers, stern. "I'm not stupid. You're definitely not either. You know what I'm talking about."

The young woman's voice hardened. "No. I don't."

"You stood up Hinata-chan last week."

"_Stood up_? Did you manage to puke out a chunk of brain cells a while ago?"

"And you'll call that what?"

"How about none of your business?" the kunoichi snapped. "Are you implying I did it on purpose?"

"Heh. That mission was just too convenient, Sakura-chan."

"Wouldn't you call yours the same? And you rarely volunteer for head hunts."

"Hey! Sasuke's not even here that time. Why would I hafta avoid him?!"

"See?" Sakura shot out of her seat, but managed to keep her voice calm. "It's you. It's you whose displacing it on me. You're the one wants to avoid somebody, and you can't handle it, so you accuse me of being the one who's doing it."

"Like you're not avoiding Hinata-chan!"

"So are you."

"Well, it's not like I can just get in her face and tell her what to do."

"Same here! I can't tell her what to do, just like you can't tell me what to do."

The jounin sat down on the floor. "I'm confused."

"So am I," Sakura muttered after a pause. "I like Hinata."

"It's not her fault," Naruto grunted. "Don't get back at her."

"I am not a child!" the mednin finally exploded. "I have a full set of parents, thank you very much, and in case you didn't notice, I still live with them. You don't have to play arbiter. You don't have to police me. There's nothing for me to get back at. Hinata-chan. . . Hinata-chan."

There was an awkward silence.

"I'm just saying," Naruto finally said in a subdued voice. "I'm just saying you should follow your own advice."

"So now you're calling me a hypocrite," his old team mate pointed out tiredly. Then: "Hey."

"Hmm?"

"What's the point of this conversation?"

". . . Dunno."

"Me neither."

Another long stretch of silence.

"Are you well enough to go home?"

"I guess." Naruto ran a hand through his spiky hair. "I guess, I'll just stick to waiting it out, like you said."

"I didn't say that," she murmured.

"Oh yeah?" Naruto rose, then headed out. "It's not like either of us has any other ideas."

Sakura quietly followed him downstairs and closed the door behind him.

---

When Uchiha Sasuke opened the door, it was the disapproving face of the Godaime Hokage that greeted him. Her room was cramped, what with piles of scrolls and books scattered haphazardly. She gestured for him to be seated; he declined. He had no desire to be so comfortably situated, particularly since it would have been impossible to relax under the tension generated by the number of VIP's crammed in limited space.

"Naga Yuuhi is dead," said one of the important-seeming figures, a pompous man whose name Sasuke never bothered to catch.

"Aa," he acknowledged.

"By your hands?"

"No."

"We demand proof, Uchiha Sasuke."

Sasuke remained unaffected by the accusatory tone. "Ask the other one," he said coldly.

The various elders (and the ANBU squad, probably there to buffer) parted to reveal a diminutive figure.

"Hyuuga Hanabi, you killed Naga Yuuhi?"

"I did," she answered cooly.

"Despite orders!"

"They were not mine," she answered, still in that level voice. "Nonetheless, his death was incidental. He brought it upon himself."

"How so, child?"

"I was merely defending myself. His attacks were of desperation. He was not running from me. Or from _him_." The 'him' was venomous.

One of the village elders held up a hand for silence. Sasuke immediately recognized him as the man who started the whole circus he was now obliged to join: Hyuuga Hanatarou.

"Hanabi-sama," he said, his voice quiet and fatherly. "You aren't doing much to save yourself from court martial."

"My aim was no different from the other one's," the girl enunciated haughtily. "I was seeking information for my sister's sake. It was not part of my orders to follow this man, and I had indeed deviated from my own mission. I pursued a personal matter, I admit. But it was not meant to be an act of vengeance, and definitely not an act of. . . disposal."

"Hokage-sama?" the spoke person—whoever he was—prompted the silent leader.

Tsunade grunted an initial response, but only spoke minutes after.

"The mission failed, end of story," she said. "Dismissed."

"Hokage-sama–!" protested the man, taken aback. "This is not to be borne. Both must account for their respective failures."

"The consequences shall be meted out by the Hyuuga clan," Tsunade declared. "On both counts."

As the elders shuffled after the ageless mednin to discuss yet another of her "questionable" rulings, Sasuke stayed on his spot and looked to the girl who snagged his prey days earlier.

"I don't owe you any explanations," she said, glancing at him dismissively.

"Didn't ask," he returned, equally stoic, poised to leave the room as well. She blocked his path then, eyes narrowing.

"What are your intentions?"

"I don't owe you any explanations."

He allowed her to storm out of the office first, before he himself exited and headed for home.

---

Home was usually a place of balance, a haven from various stressors, a world away from the games with Death. For Hyuuga Hinata, it had not been so lately—or ever had been, truth be told. Her harshest critics resided under that very roof. The saddest news, the harshest edicts, the lack of faith came from within.

It was a serene evening. She was still a captive in her own village, has been for almost a month now. She supposed she had gotten used to it by now, in a sense that she had ceased to look at it as a form of punishment for being weaker than she should have been. She found that she enjoyed the company of children, and even more so, the opportunity to share the knowledge and experience she had gathered through the years. All in all, she was as content as she possibly could.

Her placidity was first broken by the sharp crack of wood against wood. The doors leading out to the zen garden was flung open and hit the walls they were attached to. Hinata stared, mouth ajar, as Hanabi came marching out, escorted by a handful their of hard-eyed cousins.

"Welcome home, Hana–"

"I want to talk to Hinata-sama," the younger girl announced. "In private."

"That's fine, Hanabi," Hinata said curiously. "But before that, where have you been?"

Hanabi grabbed her by the arm and dragged her along as she briskly navigated the main house, in a deliberately convoluted path. They were silent all the while, remaining so for the first few minutes after they reached the Garden of the Billion Blooms.

"Nee-sama," Hanabi suddenly spoke, turning to her a stern expression. "You have certain privileges I am not entitled to. By corollary, there are certain things you _owe_ the clan, that I don't. I can't keep dolling it out for you."

"I have always been obedient to the clan, Hanabi." Hinata sighed. "You don't have to remind me of my responsibilities."

"You speak of them as a burden—"

"I don't," Hinata disagreed sadly. "It is me that's. . . burdensome."

"Listen to me!"

"I am trying to, Hanabi-chan." The older girl sighed. "I'm trying to understand what you want to tell me. I always try to, sister."

"And failing at it," Hanabi barked. "Can't you understand? You are in more danger here in Konoha than elsewhere, in any class of mission. This is what I've concluded."

"It is baseless—"

"And where do you think I've been all this time? Just sunbathing in Wave country? Hanabi pressed closer to her sister, her sneer and tone both scathing. "How long have you been sitting pretty here, oneesama? What reason did they give you again, to justify the restrictions they levied upon you? My mission, oneesama, had been to investigate the group of missing nins known as the Serrators. You remember Naga Yuuhi? He was one of those bastards supposedly after you. Well, guess what? He knows nothing. He doesn't even know you exist. He has absolutely no clue why he became the target of a massive manhunt from Konoha, when he's already running from both Mist and Stone. Doesn't that say something?"

"I've always said it's paranoia–"

"Will you stop existing inside your sweet and fluffy little snow globe world!? It's obviously a set-up of some kind. And I had a run-in with Flavor of the Month, your current suitor. Be careful with him. We don't know if he's being played and by whom, or if he has a game of his own."

"Who?"

Hanabi snorted. "You don't know?"

But she did know. Hinata felt blood empty from her face as she recalled the strange behavior both Naruto and Sakura exhibited last week.

_Is there something you'd like to tell me?_

It made sense now. The visits. The audiences with her father. She was the stupid and blind for not realizing herself. She was the oblivious one, the one with a less-than-stable grip on reality.

She was a fool.

"I don't have time to watch you beat yourself up right now!" Her sister fiercely interrupted her thoughts. "I shan't be allowed the chance for a second imprudence. For heaven's sake, wake up and be vigilant. Even if you give me the swirly box, even if I want it, claim it, it _can't_ be mine. Remember!"

Hinata merely stared at her, but as the other had predicted, was not given the opportunity to ask for clarifications. Hanabi was then summoned by the clan head, through the collective voice of the clan elders.

Hanabi left without a backward glance, leaving behind a shaken Hinata to puzzle over what was said.

What was not said.

---

The sun finally made its appearance, but it was after a long stretch of somber grayness and already late in the day. Only a couple more hours before the shining disc would pass the horizon, and then it would be night again, and likely, unforgivingly cold. It would be a shame to miss the rare warmth, so Sakura opted to stay outside as long as she could and had simply left a note at the Crossings.

Truth be told, she wouldn't have minded missing the rendezvous. Cowardice, however, was something she no longer tolerated from herself—particularly since what, whom she feared was none other than herself. She was proud of her exemplary ability in chakra control with which she saved lives, hers including. What was the tempering of volatile emotions compared to that?

(That was bravado speaking there. She let it speak on, a better alternative to both the nervous fluttering of her heart in her ears and the constant wrangling of guilt and rancor in her mind.)

A ghostly figure wandered into her line of sight. The gray-tinted robes contrasted against the rusty mix of oranges and browns, both on the ground and the remnants still on the trees. In a different setting (a formal audience with the Hokage, perhaps?), it would have been regal. As it was, Hyuuga Hinata seemed a tad forlorn and. . . lost. Sakura took a calming breath and smiled.

"Hinata-chan," she called, waving. "I'm over here!"

There was no way the jounin could have missed her, but the reaction was still a startled, "Ah," then a ready smile. Where did Sakura get the notion that she was sad?

"Catching some rays, as you can see," Sakura said. "Not potent enough for a tan, but a little sun's good for the body."

Hinata looked up from picking her way among the gnarled roots of the trees. She beamed another smile at her companion, but did not add to her remark. Sakura was sitting on a thick sinewy tree branch, her plain skirt demurely tucked around her, legs swinging.

"Come up here?"

"Yes." A leap had the other sitting on an adjacent bough, one that brought them conveniently almost face-to-face. "How have you been, Sakura-san?"

"Okay, I guess," the mednin said, tilting her head to squint at the gold-soldered skies. "Tired, bored. . . mostly tired."

"O-oh, I see." Hinata, on the other hand, was busily perusing the leaf-strewn earth. Sakura vaguely wondered if the Hyuuga's eyes were actually capable of observing the slow minute steps of decay, the concerted attack of various creatures on that fragment of a former life.

"And how have you been, Hinata-chan?" she asked after a few minutes of absently fitting objects into the current cloud configuration.

"Similar to Sakura-san. Bored at first." She looked at her companion, finally, and grinned shyly. "But now, more people know I have nothing much to do. . ."

Sakura blinked at her, almost startled, then grinned back. "Things became rather hectic then, huh?"

"Pretty hectic, yes."

They shared a more companionable silence this time. Sakura was at a loss on how to breach the subject she wanted to address, having failed to obtain even the simplest of advice from another, more mature woman. She didn't even tell Ino, an odd choice of a confidant, but one she deeply trusted. Ino would probably revert into gung-ho mode, would maniacally cheer her on to fight for it—fight for what? For the nth time, Sakura wondered what it was she really wanted to tell her Clique buddy.

"Ah, S-sakura-san." It was Hinata who broke the stalemate. "About last week, I want to apolo–"

"Funny you brought that up," Sakura interrupted mildly. "I wanted to apologize about that. The mission was sudden, alright, but I could have always said no. I guess, I just didn't want to see you then. For stupid reasons. "

"I– I'm sorry about not telling you about it." Hinata fidgeted uncomfortably. "You can hardly be blamed for reacting that way."

"Venting frustrations on other people you mean?" Sakura's slight smile was rather impish. "After analyzing the situation, I figured you didn't exactly have a clue about things back then, anyway."

Hinata blushed. "B-but. . . I suppose. Yes, I was a little oblivious. But— You're not mad?"

"Mad about what?"

"Naruto-kun always said. . ." The raven-haired girl trailed off, looking more uncomfortable than ever. "That you and Sas–"

"Don't mind that busybody." Sakura waived her away. "And didn't I just say that I _was_ mad? Which was really illogical, come to think of it."

". . . are we talking about the same thing?" Hinata sounded morose.

"Listen." The mednin suddenly turned to her and gripped her by shoulders. The expression on her face was fierce. "The only thing we can do now is keep faith. It's true that I'm surrounded by oblivious idiots, but hey, we've waited this long, Hinata-chan. What's the big deal with a little more waiting? So let's go with the flow, Hinata-chan. Go with the flow."

"Sakura-chan. . ."

It would be a lie to say that Sakura was as nonchalant as she sounded at that moment—she had always been rather talented in hiding her true thoughts and feelings, always been gifted with the capacity for stringent control. Despair did lurk about the more secret corners of her brilliant and convoluted mind—but wasn't that an aspect of everybody's psyche? Fighting ennui on top of that wasn't easy, however, not with Inner Sakura seeming to have atrophied over the last few years, already losing her usual vivaciousness after a few bouts with frustration. Still, she was able to say what she wanted to say in the end, never mind that it was probably only barely coherent to the poor bemused Hyuuga girl.

Sakura's smile wavered slightly, but all in all, she thought the meeting went better than expected.

end chapter

July 19, 2007 (5:12pm)

Ah, as you see, things slowed down a bit.

Next chapter: Sasuke and Hinata arrive on more or less the same page; Naruto doesn't quite get there; other stuff I don't remember right now; even slower in coming, methinks

The muses are languishing with ennui. Sorry, readers. (grovels at feet)


	16. Chapter 15: The Autumn Part I

Disclaimer: Naruto is not mine, only borrowing, no monetary gain here, etc. I dun even know much beyond chapter 300 something, you know?

**Chapter 15: The Autumn Festival Happenings (Part I)**

Paper blinds sieved sunlight, preventing it from glaring full force into the Hokage's office, on the estimable Godaime herself. The Godaime was very particular about exposure to sun, citing age spots and freckles as mortal enemies. And well. . . it made it harder to sleep, too.

Peaceful days were usually paperwork days. Nothing required her immediate utmost attention, aside from the stubborn piles of document lying on and about her desk. There was no urgent matter that would allow her to foist secretarial work on her trusted elite ninjas. (Konoha had a fairly self-sufficient, more than efficient bureaucracy. It wouldn't fall apart just because a Hokage was too lazy to read or whatnot.) The Autumn Festival was also underway, and many of her soldiers enjoyed a reprieve from their usually demanding schedules. It was only appropriate she dabbled a little bit in the festivities, which she had at the crack of dawn earlier that morning, presiding over some sort of opening ceremony. Her memory must be failing her. . . thank heavens it wasn't her butt getting soft.

At any rate, that lazy interminably slow afternoon found Tsunade-sama dozing off. Understandably so---she did have a busy morning. Her much needed rest and relaxation was rudely interrupted when her door flew open so hard, it cracked the wall it was attached to. The door was fairly sturdy one, a veteran of many such violent treatments and thus held firm, but her beauty sleep was irreparably ruined.

"Oi, baba!"

Tsunade-sama, ever the sturdy, unshakable pillar of Konoha, made no attempt to dignify her position.

"Holy shi-!"

The Godaime was a kind, benevolent woman, and so obliged to pulling her robes back in place and wiping the side of her mouth. Uzumaki Naruto, a greenish cast on his face, stomped up to her desk, affronted, and was sadly unappreciative of her generosity.

"Listen, baba. We all know all you do in here is slack off and snooze, but can you be neater about it? It's not like any of us enjoys getting flashed by old-lady boobies. Man, you have no idea how gross that was---are you like inventing a hands-free way of killing people?"

The jounin finally seemed to take the hint and clamped his jaws abruptly. With massive dignity, the Hokage spoke.

"Whaddayawant?" she thundered.

Naruto stiffened, hesitated.

"I'm busy." Tsunade was speaking more coherently now. "Hurry up."

"Whaddaya mean you're busy? You were just snoring here with your old-lady boobies hanging out like--"

"You really should drop that old lady boobies thing," commented Shizune from behind him. "If you're bent on seeing another sunrise, that is."

"Besides, they don't really qualify under old lady boobies, anyway," Tsunade said, examining her cleavage in spite of herself. "He just hasn't seen enough of them for comparison."

"Hey!"

"Correction. He hasn't seen enough of any kind."

"I have so! I've seen all kinds, all shapes, all size, all---"

"Looks like all those peeping-tom complaints we've been getting may actually have some basis."

"Erk. . . It wasn't me. I swear. Must be some ghost or something. You know?"

"Now what to do you want?"

"Ah. It's about Hinata and this stupid suitor business. It's just wrong. Can you make them stop?"

"So this pervert is criticizing an ancient family's perfectly legitimate attempts to respectably marry off their daughters."

"It's not a joke! They're really being unfair to her."

"The Hyuuga have been doing this for years," the Hokage said, suddenly serious. "Why are you complaining now?"

Naruto seemed taken aback by the sudden gravity of her tone. "Well, I. . . a person can only take so much, you know? I mean--"

"I guess that confirms your suspicions, Tsunade-sama," Shizune said.

"Yes, yes," ruminated the Hokage. "I've always thought he had a thing for--"

"I don't! It's just that. . . Why of all people Sasuke?"

"I know. It's ironic. Must be some sort of reaction-formation to all that pent up aggression. Is it a man thing?"

". . . What?"

"All those years of friendship is being threatened by the advent of such intense emotions. And of course, there's the impending identity crises you two'd have to deal with, I imagine."

"Who?"

"You and Sasuke," Shizune clarified. "This is a confession, right?"

"HA?! No! I don't have a thing for that dopey-eyed bastard either!"

"But you're just being contrary about this because it's your old team mate involved, right? You didn't mind the others."

"The others weren't taken."

"You're really sending mixed signals here, kid," Tsunade said.

"It's not like that!"

"Regardless." the Hokage suddenly rose from her seat. "I don't really have time for this."

"Whaddaya mean you don't have time---"

"Come back when you have a valid argument."

"So a girl being forced into things isn't valid enough for you? I guess, I guess, that makes sense. So what if there's a girl being forced into some arranged marriage? It's what they always do, you said. Like those slave-traffickers in Southeastern Corn country. They've been doing it for centuries--why stop now? It's not broken, so were not fixing it. Let's just wait for her to break, and then we'll kick their asses. It's like that, isn't it?"

"Get out," came the ominous answer. "Or do I have to escort you?"

"No, thanks, ugly baba. You're back's already stressed from carrying those old-lady boobies. Don't want to add the weight of my ass to it!"

But the Hokage-sama, ever so gracious, insisted and personally kicked him out the window.

---

The midautumn festival of Konohagakure no Sato and surrounding areas were traditionally held during the last few days of October. A street was quartered off from the rest of the town---which one was usually decided by a popularity poll. The inhabitants of the said street would then transform it into a richly decorated slice of the village's varying cultural treasures. The various clans of the Leaf had their respective stories, their respective customs, and most importantly, their respective recipes. Food stalls were in abundance, manned a by a representative or two of the clan, usually the most loquacious or charming of them. There were others vending various goods, too. The Yamanaka had their best flower hybrids on display, while the Nara had leather and amphorae of herbal tinctures. Kiba and his partner were there, hounding by-passers into adopting a stray dog or cat, his sister's project. Among food stall, couple of variations on ramen were there too, Ichiruki and its rival.

There was something new that year, or rather, something that has come back after long years of absence. Dark heads sure were plenty, and intractable stoic was unavoidable in a sea of ninja. This combination, however, was telling on one handsome young man, particularly because the back of his yukata bore the famous red and white emblem.

Uchiha Sasuke had been accused of having no social life. Many would kindly attribute this to his workaholic tendencies. He would finish all his missions without fail, usually in a timely manner, and often with a bonus finding or two. He would pick up missions in between days off, sometimes giving up vacation time altogether. Of course, many would argue that he took on such a workload _because_ he had no social life. That discussion aside, it was no surprise that he continued to receive glances askance as he walked down Kinoku Avenue, this year's chosen venue, trailing behind the preeminent daughter of the white-eyed clan.

Hyuuga Hinata was not quite as conspicuous, for she was often seen about town, usually accompanied by somebody, be it a teammate, a family member, or a friend. The two of them together were followed by short curious looks, as they walked along as in a solemn procession.

"Ah, Sasuke-san," Hinata suddenly spoke, stopping abruptly as they turned a corner. "Didn't your family use to have a booth here annually? Selling hand-made fans?"  
Sasuke stared at her for a few moments without answering, and she looked away, abashed.

"Grass woven blinds and mats," he corrected in a level voice. "The few fans were merely from the excess material."

"Oh, I see," she said, resuming their walk. There wasn't really any reason to ask him to elaborate, and he was satisfied she had the sense not to. They both knew the reason why those goods no longer appear during autumn festivals, and it would have been a waste of saliva (and in Sasuke's case bile) to discuss it.

They've been silent for the most part. There wasn't much of anything to talk about, and Sasuke was not the type to tackle weather or the global market. Mission details were generally kept out of everyday conversations, and a tentative inquiry revealed no obvious commonality in their hobbies.

Their only similarity seemed to be their mutual connection to Uzumaki Naruto, and as of late, Haruno Sakura. Most of the spattering of exchanges revolved around a meeting with her or a conversation with him. . . "There was a time" was how they usually started. Anybody who dared to eavesdrop on them would have been puzzled by their choice of topic.

"That dobe," Sasuke spoke up unexpectedly. "He talks about me?"

Hinata seemed startled. "Um, no," she answered. "I remembered from when I was a child. About those grass-woven fans and mats. And a certain bun filled with some sweet purple crop."

"Ah. Those."

She didn't answer the question.

"I suppose I can learn how to make those again. I still remember how they taste like."

Hinata peered at him curiously. "You seem to have given this much thought," she remarked. Trying to make conversation, he supposed. "Also those handwoven crafts?"

He nodded vaguely. "It's been suggested."

The Hyuuga girl toyed with her obi, seemed to struggle with herself, before seeming to come to a decision.

"Sasuke-san," she said haltingly. "If you don't mind me asking, what--"

"What are my intentions?" Sasuke finished, unfazed. "I've been transparent."

"And I've been accused of being slow on the uptake," she laughed sheepishly. "Please?"

"It's general knowledge that I have been the lone Uchiha for almost seven years now," Sasuke obliged, leaning against the scarcely visited booth of the Aburame family. "The duty and burden of passing this name on, thus falls solely on me. For this ambition, I need a wife. You are being considered for this. . . position, as objectively as your family seems to be considering me. Contrary to popular belief, I am practical enough to know that a person has to marry at least someone they can get along with. Obviously, the only way verify this would be to spend actual time with the other party. This is why I go through the motions as tradition dictates it."

It was an uncharacteristically long speech, but it was something missing-in-action avengers had a lot of practice with. The pale young man watched as his companion digested his words. There was an odd expression on her face, one he couldn't quite read.

"I have a question for you," he spoke again, to direct her thoughts.

"Hm? Oh, of course. I'll answer the best I can."

"Do you have any existing romantic pursuits?"

"Roman-- What?"

"I don't believe in romance. It exists, but I won't tolerate it within my sphere of influence. I don't want to deal with such entanglements, so I want to know as early as now. I can't have a partner who has any reason to be less than devoted to the cause."

"Well." Hinata squirmed. "I don't."

"That's good enough for now," he approved.

All in all, Sasuke seemed fairly contented with the meeting. He was able to sustain decent conversations with the girl. He told her of his plans without her seeming to balk at them. Even better, she dealt well with children, if their seeming fondness of her was indication enough. If she did indeed lack the ability of firmness when necessary, he was confident he could handle the disciplinary aspect of the project.

They wandered an hour or two among the ramen stands and booths, both mostly watching the general festivity. Konoha valued the lives it hid under the canopy of leaves and it showed. Sasuke may be unable to join in, but he respected what it celebrated and he tolerated his companion's shy enjoyment of it. Before they parted, he gave her a pair of gilded knives, fitting gift from a suitor.

He supposed it had some promise.

---

This festive air of well-being wasn't quite universal. As with any celebration, there were elements of the populace who were excluded, whether purposely or not, from the jubilation. One of them was the same Uzumaki Naruto we earlier met, the same one whose meeting with his commander-in-chief did not go as planned. He thus proceeded in wallowing in his characteristic hedonistic practices to make himself feel better.

Being so afflicted with an addiction, there were only a few things that could stop Uzumaki Naruto from gobbling up another bowl of ramen in his state. Usually, his financial state would be a factor; the more glutted his master was, the more emaciated poor Gama-chan became. Yesterday was payday, though, so today money was no object. Gastric capacity was the only other factor Iruka could readily think of, and it seemed the blond jounin's stomach had finally reached its stretching limit.

Good old Iruka had been often accused of being too good and tenderhearted for his own good---a trait his young and as yet naive students would too quickly protest against. He turned over the ramen stall to his wife's watch apologetically, and hastily escorted his pale groaning former student out of the sight and smell of the establishment. After all, it wouldn't help business for Ichiruki's mobile version, the one that made regular appearances in various village holidays, if its patrons and products got sprinkled with some fresh projectile vomitus.

Naruto was lead to the deserted school yard of the Ninja Academy. He collapsed atop a pile of raked leaves, slightly dizzy. Iruka meanwhile sat on the roots of the naked tree, basking in the rare warmth of the fall sunlight. They were silent for a few minutes, save for the jounin's heavy breathing.

"Are you. . . compensating for something?" Iruka finally saw fit to ask.

Wearily, Naruto turned to his voice. "Wah?"

"I mean, I know you love ramen and all, but you usually don't attempt suicide with it."

". . . have you been spending time with Kakashi-sensei at all?"

"Kakashi-san? I haven't seen him in months. What's he got to do with it?"

"You're as annoying as he is."

"Now, that's just being rude," Iruka said with a sigh. The years had mellowed the Ninja Academy teacher. Usually, he chided Naruto with a bop on his spiky head. "Have you been sick?"

"Uh. . . A few days ago?"

"Have you been to a doctor?"

"Sakura-chan took pity on me. She said it was food poisoning or something. Said something about liquid diet for a few days."

"So you've been eating ramen all this time?" His old teacher demanded incredulously. "What part of liquid diet don't you understand?"

"Hey, ramen's liquid! Isn't that why it spills?"

"Well, yes, the soup part! But I don't think anybody would consider all that noodles and meat you've stuffed down your throat liquid---that explains why the stuff you puked out weren't even partially digested! Are you crazy?!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Naruto did sound sorry (who wouldn't be, after all that?), so Iruka let it go.

"So what's the matter?" he coaxed out. "Aside from the stomach bug, that is."

"Sensei, don't you think the baba's been slacking off too much lately?"

"Naruto, I think that's inviting a treason charge, actually. Have you been fighting with Hokage-sama again?"

"It's not over something stupid this time." Naruto sickly waved him away. "It's about doing the right thing, you know? Like not letting people get bossed around."

"You're being vague," Iruka said. "It's not like you. Really, Naruto, what's this about?"

"Hinata-chan and Sasuke. You don't know about it?"

His old academy teacher seemed genuinely baffled. "Well, yes, I do, but---shouldn't you be happy about it?"

"Happy? Why the hell would I be happy?"

"For one thing, Sasuke's starting to move on. Shouldn't you be happy, as his friend?"

"But I'm also Hinata's friend! Why should I be happy about something she's unhappy about? Why should she get forced to marry old dead-eyes?"

Iruka paused to ponder over the young man's outburst. His years as a teacher had given him a certain finesse when dealing with a frustrated person groping for answers, a youngling learning to look, able to look, seeing but not quite comprehending yet. . .

"I think you're over-reacting," he said. "Not meaning to be offensive," he added hastily. "But haven't Sasuke and Hinata only starting walking out recently? There's been no talk of marriage, not even of an engagement. At least, there's been none in the general public. Did either of them tell you of the contrary?"

"But the Hyuuga--"

"The Hyuuga family has been at this for years. Hinata-chan has been walking out with suitors since she turned seventeen. How long ago was that?"

"She'll be twenty-one this December."

"This isn't about her, is it? Is this about Sasuke?"

"The old baba said that, too." Naruto sounded and looked moody. "I don't know. Why should it be about that bastard all the time? Isn't Hinata-chan the victim here?"

"If you want to focus on Hinata-chan, that's fine. Frankly, I saw Hinata-chan earlier, and she didn't seem particularly unhappy. Neither of them did, actually. Well, Sasuke always has the same unflappable expression, but you get my drift."

"Neither of them?" Naruto echoed, sitting up slowly from his throne of leaves. "Sasuke was at the festival?"

"With Hinata-chan, naturally. They're walking out. It's almost unspoken agreement they would go together."

"Oh yeah! Your first date with Ayame-chan was at a spring festival." The blond momentarily regained his impish streak and so was grinning evilly. "I heard it was a disaster, sensei."

"Don't bring up stuff like that in a serious conversation!" Iruka sputtered indignantly. "And no, it wasn't a _complete_ disaster. It was--gah! And how do you know Hinata's unhappy about this, anyway? Did she tell you she is? Did she seem like she is to you?"

"Tell me?" Naruto hesitated, losing his mischievous expression. "Well. No. But I can tell. Because Sasuke's Sasuke, for one thing. And Hinata's Hinata, for another."

"Sasuke, to all accounts, have been polite and proper to her, if that's what you're driving at. Do you think the Hyuuga will allow otherwise?"

"Of course, Sasuke'll be nice to her," growled Naruto. "He's an icicle, not a monster. I mean--"

Iruka, as usual with his "sort of" son, was groping for the loose ends of their conversation, attempting to match each frayed piece to another. "You're worried that he's _it_, aren't you? So is Sasuke really it? What makes you think the Hyuuga will finally choose Sasuke?"

"Why shouldn't they go for Sasuke?" Naruto asked, startlingly quick to defend his proclaimed rival. "He's a pretty decent guy, even with all his hang-ups. He's a loyal friend and he takes care of people. And, and whatever the crap some members of his family's supposed to have done, it's still a respected name, you know?"

The boy was amazing, Iruka thought. Profoundly, idiotically amazing. "You don't exactly have a parentage to be ashamed of Naruto," he said, not even commenting on Naruto's omission of the entire debacle about the Nine-Tails and the Uchiha's rumored quest to dominate it. "You're name's as good as his. Or mine, for that matter."

"Sensei, why are you dragging me into that topic again?" Naruto asked wearily.

It was a fair call. "I'm sorry. I know you don't want to make an issue of it, and I respect that." Iruka sighed. "So, given how much you admire Sasuke---"

"I didn't say--" Naruto hesitated, then broke off entirely. He let his sensei's statement lie.

Iruka rephrased his statement, anyway. "Given how you regard your friend despite your multiple attempts of killing each other, why are you so hellbent on separating him from Hinata-chan? Isn't it nice he's trying to find happiness, somehow?"

"Finally?" muttered Naruto in spite of himself.

"Yes, finally. Starting to, at least." A smile crept its way to Iruka's face, the fatherly sort of pride welling up in his insides was pleasantly surprising as it was the first time he felt it all those years ago. "Sasuke still has a right to this, doesn't he?"

"I didn't say he doesn't." Somewhat theatrically, the lanky jounin collapsed back to the pile of leaves. "But Hinata-chan--"

"Naruto, it's not like you to use another person as a scapegoat."

Naruto merely growled something indistinct.

"I didn't catch that," Iruka said, edging closer.

With a little less snarling involved, the boy repeated his statement.

"Taken?" Iruka echoed in puzzlement. "Sasuke's taken?"

Naruto finally exploded. "Has everyone forgotten about Sakura-chan?!"

His old teacher was actually speechless for a few moments. "Sakura? What about Sakura?"

"It was all for that bastard." The boy sounded achingly, sincerely broken. It was not his usual presentation, but it was not at all a mood unknown to his almost-father. "Didn't you know?"

". . . all?"

Naruto threw his arms apart, as if to encapsulate some unknown entirety. Either he didn't seem to feel the need to say it, or he was merely unable to sufficiently express what wanted to.

"Is this your story to tell?" Iruka asked, after a few more moments of silence passed. "Earlier, you were speaking for Hinata. Now, it's Sakura."

The boy sighed. "You're right," he admitted rather miserably. "I don't really know exactly what she feels about Sasuke anymore. I mean, obviously she cares for him, but other than that. . . She pretends she's okay with it, you know, but I know she's not happy about it."

"That's a hefty accusation," Iruka noted seriously. "She didn't seem particularly unhappy either."

"Sensei, you were manning a food stall! What else could you guys have talked about aside from what topping to put and what soup base to use? Besides, you thought Sakura-chan was this sweet and gentle model student back in the Academy, didn't you? And you'll agree she isn't always, right?"

The boy had a point. He had a point in each counts, actually.

"Anyway, Sakura-chan won't tell me. She won't tell Sasuke either. It's all that insensitive bastard's fault."

"Is it?" came the thoughtful reflection. "I wouldn't have known about it, if you hadn't told me. I admit it; I've noticed Sakura have on occasion been pretty protective of Sasuke. Then again, so is she with you. The village hasn't always been very kind to you either. Sakura's always kinda acted as a buffering force around you two. However, like many people, I've assumed that Sakura, like a lot of girls, had simply outgrown her infatuation on Sasuke---you're right. How would I know? That's a different issue, all the same, one that's really, er. . ."

"None of my business?"

"Er. . . not entirely, granted." Iruka struggled with his words. "What I'm trying to do, I guess, is make you reflect on your own reactions to the Hyuuga suitor business."

"Huh?"

"You've expressed outrage over the possibility of Hinata being forced with Sasuke, but aren't you wanting to do the same? Forcing Sasuke with Sakura?"

"Now my head hurts, too," the young man said plaintively.

"As for Hinata-chan, if worse comes to worst, should you be dismissing her fight this early?"

Naruto looked at him blankly.

"I mean, if Hinata should come to the point where she has to fight for her own choices, do you really think her incapable of doing so?"

Naruto didn't answer, seemingly occupied by the patterns the dead branches made as they seemingly reached for the skies.

"I don't have an answer to that myself," the teacher continued. "I don't know Hinata well enough to say anything." He got up and dusted himself. "Anyway, Naruto, whatever you want to do, think about it first, okay?"

His old student grunted in assent.

"Sorry, but I need to go back now. Will you be okay?"

"I'll tough it out," the boy replied with a grimace. "And Sakura-chan gave me this nasty-tasting goop I'm supposed to take everyday. I think the bottle's still in my trashcan"

Iruka merely smiled, a tad rueful, and went his way back to the festivities.

---

A little later, we see Uzumaki Naruto seemingly spreading his newfound good cheer, The first person he graced with such a gift was a young lady we met earlier, one Hyuuga Hinata. Which gives us much to ponder on, actually.

How much thinking did that dobe do exactly before setting out to share his findings?

Forty degrees Fahrenheit didn't quite feel the same underneath a woolly dog-eared costume that was somehow supposed to be a gigantic puppy, particularly if it happened to be three sizes bigger than yours. Hinata was sweating buckets by the time she scrambled out of the fenced of enclosure nearby the Inuzuka's booth. She removed the massive headpiece to reveal her flushed face, her hair matted on her cheeks and neck, laughter on both her eyes and lips.

Though not strictly a mission, the Hyuuga girl couldn't recall feeling as accomplished as she did today--not for weeks, at least. Playing mascot for the Inuzuka veterinary was rather enjoyable and an unexpected work out. It involved a lot of giggling, see, and a lot of running after hyperactive toddlers, whose parents were off elsewhere in the vicinity, enjoying a few moments alone time. She did owe Kiba-kun thanks for volunteering her to the family, and she supposed, for the stinky wolf costume he lent her.  
One of her hind paws got caught on the stringy tail that had been flopping between her legs all afternoon, and she stumbled. She caught herself, but somehow overcompensated, finding her self tottering towards the opposite direction this time. Muffling a girlish chortle, she closed her eyes and braced for her impact on the dirt road. She fell on somebody instead. Embarrassed, she turned around immediately to apologize.

"Ah, Naruto-kun!"

The taller boy didn't answer her cheerful greeting, as forthcoming as he ordinarily would. He stared at her with an undecipherable expression, before bursting out in boisterous laughter.

"I didn't realize it was you in the dog costume!" he exclaimed, tearing up in hilarity. "So how much did Kiba give you to switch with him?"

She blushed in spite of herself, but her face had been red from the start, from all the roughhousing of the village kids. Maybe he wouldn't notice then. . .

"You really don't look unhappy at all," Naruto said suddenly, looking at her with something akin to curiosity in his eyes.

"It's not so bad!" she protested. "Kiba-kun didn't pay me to do it, and I had fun."

"Right. Sweating like a dog in a dog costume."

"Dogs don't really sweat as much as people," Hinata blurted out. "That's why they pant. Um, Kiba-kun said." She shuffled uncomfortably. "I'm supposed to be a wolf. I think. I'm Momo."

Naruto picked up the fallen mascot head and frowned at its hand-sewn eyes. "Momo's nose is blunted."

"I'm a kid-friendly wolf," Hinata said, her smile lopsided from the slight pant she still had.

"Okay, okay," Naruto acceded. "So you had fun with this stinky guy here. That's good to hear." The jounin squatted down on the dirt road, continuing to toy with the plush mascot head. "To tell the truth, I've been worried."

"Worried?" She wasn't sure if she was feeling entirely pleased about his admission. "What about?"

"Stupid stuff, I guess." He picked up the over-sized wolf head and nudged its nose against his. "So you're family's going local this time?"

Hinata started, suddenly seeming to remember something. "Yes, I meant to ask you about--"

"About the Uchiha Avenger?" Naruto continued to head-butt Momo, this time gripping it by it's floppy years. "Pretty much what he looks like. He acts like he hates people, but he really just sucks so much at dealing with them, so he avoids them a lot. Other than that, I guess he's just like everybody else."

"But--"

"Hey, Hinata-chan. I know I always dis Sasuke and all that." Naruto seemed to choke on his words before being able to say them. "But he's really not a bad guy."

Hinata bit at her bottom lip, hanging to his every word. Her breathing had slowed down enough not to constantly rasp on her ears, but the headiness of exertion still wrapped around her head. That, plus the sudden cold air, rendered her lightheaded, she reasoned. She tilted her head to one side as if to rid her head of the strange sensation, as if to help her in comprehending his words. She didn't know what he was trying to say. She didn't expect to like it.

"What I mean is," the blond continued. "Give him the chance the others got. Who knows? You two might get along well. You know?" Momo's head was now abandoned beside him. He scratched at the stubble on his chin absently, seemingly staring at something behind her. "You guys can have quiet sensible talks about pottery, Zen buddhism---whatever. And you both like bland food, so I think that'll work out."

He finally noticed her goggling at him.

"It's not like I'm handing you some seal of approval or some shit like that!" He burst out hastily. "And it's not like I even have the right to do something like that."

Hinata said nothing.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't put a lot of stock on what people are saying about him. Even I. . . exaggerate sometimes. Judge him on you own, okay? What's that old-people saying again? Something about books and covers?"

Finally, Hinata smiled. "How. . . honorable of you."

"Aww!" he protested, somehow flustered. "You're teasing me! And here I was thinking about treating you some ramen tonight---eat till you drop!"

"Ah. Sorry. I can't."

Naruto's smile dimmed somewhat. "So how long is Kiba going to keep you here?"

"Oh. Not too long. It's just that the Sarutobi family need me for something else. I promised Kurenai-sensei weeks ago."

"That's too bad." Naruto scrubbed at his nose, seemingly in deep thought. "Well, I better go. I'll be seeing ya?"

"Naturally," she said, beaming another smile at her friend.

For some reason, Hinata felt suddenly very old. She felt tired, too, even to the point of her knees buckling (it must be some arthritic ailment descending early upon her, she reasoned vaguely, part of the health hazards of being ninja). She stayed, however, to watch the blond young man as he walked away. The smile she kept focused on his back as he disappeared around an intersection, off to different road. She kept it long after he was gone, even after her jaws started to hurt, started to protest.

She never wavered---she was no longer a child.

End chapter. xD - 013108

AN: grovels at feet I promise, I won't abandon this baby. That much I can say. Thanks for reading (and waiting), really.

Next: A barrage of technical information amidst the festivities. (aka, more _talk_.)


	17. Chapter 16: The Autumn Part II

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Kishimoto Masahi. Only borrowing for entertainment purposes only. No monetary gain involved whatsoever.

**Chapter 16: The Autumn Festival Happenings (Part 2)**

The third day of the Autumn festivities fell on a Saturday, the second of the month. It was rare enough that Uchiha Sasuke had a day off, on a holiday, but it was even rarer that he had no pending business for the day. He finished all his chores the last time he was off (which happened to be the day before), and now was left with free time. Not being the type to make social calls and such, he found himself, uncannily, with nothing to do.

Curiously enough, he did have a couple of social interactions--technically, only one and a half, since he wasn't a willing participant in one of them. It was that blond idiot, an unwelcome disturbance to his morning ritual, who provided that half. For Sasuke, that social interaction was a mere nuisance and for the most part, nonsensical. As usual, it placed him in a foul mood.

Strike one, Naruto had invaded an inner sanctum, the family altar wherein Sasuke spent his mornings.

Strike two, Naruto had beaned him with a greasy packet of some unidentifiable mush, some instant meal he had microwaved in some hapless neighbor's kitchen.

Strike three. . .

"We need to talk, Sasuke."

Sasuke's response to this, considering the aforesaid strikes, was not in kind.

"I don't have time for your crap!" Naruto said impatiently. "Listen to me."

Sasuke didn't want to spill blood in front of his parents' ashes, so in spite of his instant instinct to chomp off the blond's unruly head, he allowed _that_ impertinence to pass unpunished.

"I--um, about--" He sighed in frustration. "Erm. . . It's about Hinata-chan."

At this point, Sasuke stopped his mental orchestrations of his old teammate's demise. Intrigued, he began to actually listen to what the other was trying, and obviously failing, to say.

"Um," Naruto resumed awkwardly. "She doesn't know you the way Sakura-chan and I do."

"That's stating the obvious," returned the avenger, finally forming a complete sentence.

"So. . . so if you're just making fun of her, I'll--"

"You'll what?" Granted it was a sarcastic rejoinder, Sasuke was interested in finding out what Naruto would do. There was something going on here. It inspired in him the dull sort of curiosity that prompted him to listen to that village elder a month ago.

"I'll think of something," came the agitated response. "Anyway, I wanted to tell you I didn't mind."

"Go for it. Hinata-chan's a nice girl."

". . . Are you trying to give me some kind of permission?"

The blond shrugged carelessly--far, far too carelessly. Sasuke's dark eyes bore into his blase expression, straining to read what sort of idiocy was spurring his _friend_'s words. 'Friends' was starting to become a really unpleasant word. "You can call it that if you want," came the casual reply.

"Just who the hell do you think you are?"

"Just a friend." Naruto matched the flatness of his tone.

"You presume much on that friendship."

"It's the sort of thing friends do. How many times do we need to tell you that?"

"I've never made it a game to bullshit people."

"You don't need to," Naruto snarled. "It's naturally you." He paused with a huff. "This isn't what I came for."

"What, then? A maiming?"

"Good luck on that clan restoration thing."

The dobe walked out as unceremoniously as he came. Sasuke was too busy gnashing his teeth with bemused frustration to stop him. For some reason, he wished they had just beaten the crap out of each other instead.

With some effort, he manged to calm himself afterwards, without making any lasting rearrangements on the Uchiha sector. By the time he had reached the Hyuuga residence, (this was the social call he could actually count as one), he had reclaimed his icy exterior. While breaking fast with the heiress, he was in a much more rational frame of mind and was no longer hankering for a certain jounin's blood.

As with their previous meetings, their conversations were brief and spaced apart. She was a tolerable companion, and so far, sensible.

"Sasuke-san," she suddenly spoke.

He roused from his musings.

"About what you said last time," she said haltingly. "I think I should give you the courtesy of a proper reply."

In spite of himself, Sasuke frowned. "I said I wasn't--"

"Nonetheless," Hinata bowed low. "I assure you that I will be as objective with my selection as possible. I will be. . . more serious, I suppose, on getting to know the other party. Sasuke-san in this instance."

". . .Aa," he finally said, falling to his all-purpose answer.

Hinata raised herself up and smiled faintly. "I feel much better," she murmured.

Sasuke merely looked at her.

"I was being unfair to everyone, I think. I never did take this suitor business seriously."

"Aa."

They resumed their eating. Sasuke resumed his thinking.

"How do you know that dobe?"

Hinata looked up at his question, pleasantly confused.

"Naruto. How do you know him?"

"Same as you. From the Academy. We were all in the same class. We graduated from Iruka-sensei's."

Sasuke nodded. "Do you have plans for the day?"

"I'm substituting for a couple of classes for Iruka-sensei. He has familial obligations."

"And in the afternoon?"

"I'm meeting with someone."

The third person Sasuke tried to make a social call on was apparently indisposed, so that didn't even count.

* * *

**Name**: Yukimura Shichiheiko **Age**: 25-27  
**Alias**: Yukimura Bloodshanks **Height**: 6'2  
Class A, _missing nin_  
**Known Affiliations**: Cloud, Mist, Yukimura Clan, Sanada Clan, the Serrators  
**Weapon(s) of Choice**: carbon-edged scythe, biochemical agents  
Subject reached notoriety when joined anarchist group associated with attempts to destabilize key governments in the Northern Continent, even shinobi villages, namely Grass. Subject associated with ability to reproduce techniques, perhaps through cadavers of enemies, an ability often and erroneously compared to the Sharingan. There are no documented instances of such a reproduction as of writing this report.

"Neechan!" the needling voice roused him from his thoughts. "You're not paying attention to me."

The auburn haired young woman put aside the spatula and squatted nearer the child's level. "I'm listening," she assured. "What makes you think I'm not, Emi-chan?"

"Ever since niisan came, you've been talking mostly to him, all whispers and nudges," Emi said, pouting sulkily. "Mama says boys like that are dis-distract--distractable-- are up to no good. Are you really, niisan?"

"It's not always the boys who are up to no good, Emi-chan," Tenten answered with aplomb. "Where did your sister go again? She seemed like she was in a hurry when she left you with me."

"A meeting with a tall shinobi niisan." Again Emi turned her attention to the silent Neji. "Hyuuga-niisan, are you also a cheapskate of a jounin?" she inquired, obviously quoting.

Neji looked down at the pre-schooler calmly. "I didn't choose to meet here," was all he said.

Emi nodded sagely, as if understanding his cryptic answer. "I guess boys aren't always the cheapskate jouninses," she said thoughtfully. "Oh, mama's calling me. Bye, Hyuuga-niisan! Bye Tenten-neechan!"

"Thanks a lot, Neji," the kunoichi grated through a smile as she waved at Emi-chan and her mother. "Now a six-year-old thinks I'm cheap and up to no good."

"This is hardly appropriate for a briefing."

"And I suppose the repository of the finest of all Konoha gossips is a better choice?"

"The Crossings is a respectable establishment."

"Respectable, huh? And yet, 'Tenten' is now synonymous to hopeless, outrageous flirt. It must be the Hyuuga Neji effect, sullying even the reputation of respectable establishments and its respectable customers."

Neji didn't even dignify her rant with an answer.

"Anyway, I hope you can forgive the less-than-stellar accommodations in my dreary, rickety booth, but I'm booked otherwise. 'Sides, some people have festival duties, you know. It's disheartening, really. For shibobi, these guys don't seem to have any luck in catching one measly little goldfish."

"For shinobi, they don't seem to notice how unscrupulously you've been cheating them."

Tenten waved him away. "Please. That's part of the game," she assured him. "I mean, what sort of guy would pledge their affections on a paper dipper you know for sure would fall apart once soaked in water? It's kind of like the Fire Country Lottery. You're pretty sure you won't win, but you play, anyway. Kinda like, dating, actually."

"That was nonsensical," Neji said. Admittedly, it wasn't necessary to share that opinion, but her bantering was grating on his patience.

"That's the beauty of it," she retorted. "Nobody knows what the heck we're talking about, and I get to keep my neck intact one day longer."

"Nobody's expected to flawlessly operate every mission."

"So says the perfectionist."

"At any rate, there won't be an inquiry over one or two extra fatalities in a Cloud mission."

She shook her head once, the decorative bells on her odango punctuating the movement with faint tinkling. "Let's drop that subject and get on with it."

"Shichiheiko?"

"The seventh son of a generic fighting clan."

"Generic?"

"Not particularly known for any special techniques or bloodline limits. Back in the days when the lord-vassal relationship was more pronounced, they were a part of a powerful vassal to the then Daimyo of the Lightning country. As far as Lightning country's concerned, however, the Yukimura clan has been extinct for a century."

"Influential in Cloud then?"

"Known more for their grunt work. They've kept certain families in power for decades."

"This Sanada family they're affiliated with."

"Exactly. Sounds familiar?"

"I've heard of them." It was the first thing Neji saw on the greasy wax paper she had handed her when he first arrived, after she "accidentally" splashed slimy water on him.

"Sanada Kazuya, former head of the Sanada clan, famed for his unusual diplomatic abilities, a rare man in Cloud. Particularly, he's famous for negotiating a peace treaty between Cloud and long-time rival Leaf, after more than fifty years of hack-and-slash skirmishes."

"Hinata-sama's kidnappers."

Tenten nodded, smiling grimly. "Little Shichiheiko's uncle. How's that for motive?"

"Simple vengeance?" Neji said ironically.

"I thought it was too convoluted for that. Shichi-chan doesn't sound like he's old enough to have had that kind of a relationship with his uncle."

"What kind?"

"Pederasty's particularly discouraged in Cloud."

". . . Is that what any discerning ninja would hypothesize?"

"It's what I would," Tenten said defensively. "And for the record, you've successfully corrupted the word 'discerning' in my mind, Neji. Thanks a lot."

"Enough with the jokes."

Tenten shrugged. "Anyway, Yukimura suffered from the incident. Uncle-san was disgraced. The Sanada clan fell out of favor from the Raikage and by extension, so did the Yukimura clan. Is this motive enough? Maybe, maybe not. Shichi-chan defected from Cloud, after all. Lost love with whom? The family or the village? Konoha or Hyuuga?"

"Any indication to which?"

"He had a violent confrontation with his father, apparently, which left one of them dead. Basically, he was ran out of town for multiple parricide. And he's a known anarchist and you've heard of that myth about him duplicating bloodline limits. Apparently, it's a source of drunken hilarity in many drinking holes in Cloud. The Lightning country is more lenient on him, pinning him as a botched revolutionary."

"The Serrator Hanabi found in Water Country seemed to know nothing about Hinata-sama, while Aki Carmelo of the Chanting Falls incident seemed well-versed about the Hyuuga."

"So you've told me." Tenten smiled rather savagely at a passing young woman, who suddenly seemed to be rushing off elsewhere. "And I doubt anybody could knowingly lie to your cute little cousin. At any rate, I couldn't find any trace of anything relating to Hyuuga in Cloud. Either there's none left, or I didn't penetrate deep enough. The latter's more likely. The Serrator's aim may have been simply to destabilize Mist. Maybe meeting Hinata in Marima simply opened new channels of opportunity. Maybe the Chanting Falls missing nins have a whole other game plan. But then, that doesn't entirely explain the tracking chemical they placed on Hinata in Marima. Could it be that was all they wanted to do there? Part A of a more complicated blue print?"

"Hinata-sama's kidnapping," Neji said, seemingly oblivious to her musings. "Was this before or after the Raikage's ailing?"

"Raikage?" Tenten frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think there's any known time frame for the onset of his disease, exactly. Most of the information we have on the Raikage's actually from the conjectures of rival shinobi villages; for the most part Cloud and Leaf have been staying out of each others way since then. Hinata's kidnapping would be almost eighteen years ago. It's possible that the disease has already started as early as then."

"What do we know of Sanada?"

"Aside from the fact they're indirectly responsible for your father's death?"

"Without having to state the obvious."

"Nothing much. For a high-profile family, there's really nothing prehensile readily available behind the usual elite and formidable and all-around geniuses description. Kinda reminds me of a certain Konoha clan, huh?"

"The Hyuuga have their Byakugan and the Gentlefist style. What does this clan boast of?"

Tenten shrugged. "From the ability to copy jutsu to the ability to resurrect people. There's a lot of legends about them, though I've noticed even drunken shinobi are much less likely to make jokes at their expense than, say, Shichi-chan. They're just obscure. And that's saying something coming from a Cloud nin. They're a pretty obscure lot on a whole. I think it comes with the territory. All those fogs and snowstorms and thunderheads."

"Obscure being a synonym for?"

"Damnably intractable? What are you getting at, Neji? I had to scramble out of there with my tail between my legs."

Neji paused. "I wasn't criticizing you," he said. One could dare suggest he was actually placating.

Tenten took a bit more time to come up with a mild answer. "Good," was all she said, before continuing. "The lord-vassal relationship has never been really formal in Konoha, but it is so in Cloud at some point. Just as the Yukimura clan served the Sanada clan, the Sanada served the clan Miyage."

"Miyage? The Raikage's clan?"

"Yes, the ruling family. It's not supposed to make any difference, but obviously it has bearing on Sanada's influence on virtually anything from sensitive political issues to the appropriation of budget on public outhouses. That incident here in Konohagakure no Sato led to the downfall of the Sanada family in Kunigakure no Sato, but that didn't necessarily cause them to lose favor among the Miyage. The clan head, Sanada Meiro, was said to report to the comatose Raikage everyday. Nobody really knows for sure whether the Raikage could even comprehend her at all--theoretically, yes. Anyway, Sanada evidently remains loyal to Miyage."

"It's one way to subsist," Neji pointed out.

"Maybe."

"Shinoda Iga?"

"Who?"

"Shinoda Iga."

"Oh. Oh! That cute jounin-sensei that came with those Cloud kids? He's a well-liked enough mednin. Low profile, mostly."

"Low profile enough to earn the moniker Slippery Iga?"

"There's a story about him being able to escape from the torture chambers of the Rjuten clan, which was apparently unheard of. One of my informants think it was a recruitment attempt gone wrong, and I'm inclined to agree. Anyway, Shinoda Iga maintains no political affiliations or aspirations. In some accounts, he is a brilliant mednin, in some he is a mediocre guy made famous by his escapades as a child. It depends on who's speaking. As of now, he seems harmless enough."

"But you checked him, anyway?"

"I am not a complete idiot, contrary to the apparent popular belief."

"Is that it?"

"For now, it is."

"Where are you stationed this week?"

It took a few seconds before Tenten answered. It could be because she was busy constructing another paper fish-catcher. "Kohoha," was what she finally said.

"Good. I want the Hyuuga side of the story."

* * *

Neji would be the first to swiftly discourage conjectures, but the coincidence was too telling to let pass without comment. We earlier saw that Sasuke was unable to meet with a certain person, because the said person. . . wasn't where he looked. Logically, we can deduce that the only person he could possibly be visiting would be Haruno Sakura. We'd discover why he found Sakura unavailable. She was in a cubicle that served as her office, having a late lunch with her Clique buddy.

"Hinata-chan, hmmm... I really appreciate this."

The dark-haired girl smiled and shook her head. "It's nothing," she assured. She held up a rice ball she herself was nursing. "The lunch was packed for me. I was supposed to stand in for a booth watcher, but the person had a change in plans. I though I should share."

"Darn good thought," Sakura remarked, swallowing with a long draft of water. "I didn't even realize I'm so hungry. I don't think I've eaten properly since yesterday lunch."

"Is there something wrong?" Hinata asked uneasily.

"No, no. I just keep forgetting. Actually, I think something's going right. The last few days have been kind of hectic. We're on to something."

"Is it safe to guess you haven't been sleeping much either?"

"Oh, I'm too wired to sleep." Sakura chuckled, her eyes dancing. There were, indeed, bruise-like indentions in the delicate flesh under her eyes. "Who knows? Maybe the information we're gathering would be your ticket to freedom from this house-arrest thing of yours."

Hinata took a moment to chew on her lower lip, before she made a decision.

"I-I know," Hinata began, before stopping to take a deep breath. "I know this is a breach of protocol, but. . . If I can, may, even though it could even be illegal--"

Sakura shook her head firmly.

"Ah, of course," Hinata said hastily, smiling to cover her disappointment. "I understand."

"I don't think you do." Sakura was smiling faintly. "I was going to say, you shouldn't even need to ask. In a way, this is _your_ information."

"Oh." The Hyuuga girl flushed with something akin to pleasure. "Thank you, Sakura-san."

"Well, it's not like it won't benefit me entirely," the mednin admitted with a short laugh. "I'd love to have a secondary source of information who doesn't seem to be gaging the political ramifications of every single thing I ask."

"A symbiotic relationship?"

"Exactly." Sakura sighed, more like puffed, as she set aside her cup of tea. "So. About our mutual friend."

"We're talking about the traveling farmer in Southern Fire."

"Yes. Around here, he's more popularly known as Mr. Walking Corpse." She grimaced. "It's not the most creative name, but it sticks. Most of my colleagues believe it wasn't the Cloud chuunin who technically killed him, that it, he, was dead long before that penetrating head trauma. But you see, Hinata-chan, when we received the body here in Konoha, it was still. . . metabolizing."

". . . It was still alive you mean?"

Sakura ran a frustrated hand down her face. "It depends on your definition of 'alive,' actually. In the traditional sense of the word, I suppose you could call him alive."

"But?"

"But I wouldn't call it that. I think he was. . . Well, I think he was dying. In a very long and roundabout way. He was dying. Or changing. He's not exactly what you'd call human anymore."

"How bizarre," murmured Hinata. "I could almost call him sentient. He was even polite to us, greeted us. I thought there was a sense of purpose about him."

"Hinata-chan," Sakura suddenly said. "You don't talk much with Neji, do you? Even though he's with you a lot?"

The pale girl hesitated. "I. . ."

"Because I'm pretty sure he knows most of this information."

Hinata didn't bother to answer.

"At any rate," the blossom-haired kunoichi continued. "I assumed somebody was sharing this to you. I'm sorry I didn't make it a point to personally do so."

"Sakura-san, please don't."

"Hinata-chan, please. Just allow me my little defense mechanisms, 'kay?"

Hinata merely looked bemused.

"Back to Mr. Walking Corpse. Was he hostile from the start?"

"Personally, I thought he was just being defensive, like he wasn't intending to attack exactly but was preparing for the likelihood. I doubt we looked welcoming as we bore down on him on that narrow road."

"Strange." Sakura brooded over her undecipherable notes. "He barely has a brain--I mean, his brain was barely functioning. I'm still more inclined to think that he was merely functioning based on a set of pre-programmed instructions, rather than there being an actual, present puppeteer at hand. It wouldn't have panicked, I don't think. Which makes me wonder. . . how aware was this person of what he's become?"

"Sakura-san," Hinata said hesitantly. "Are you saying there's someone deliberately doing this to people, whatever it is?"

"Whatever it is, is correct. This wasn't some resurrected corpse. This was a living person, gradually converted into this. . . thing." Sakura shook her head in disgust. "This wasn't just some natural disease process either."

"How. . .?"

"I mentioned metabolism," the mednin said. "You're familiar with cellular respiration?"

"The breaking down of molecules to create energy?" Hinata racked her brain. "It happens inside cells," she added lamely.

Sakura flashed her a strained grin. "Briefly said, yes. And this energy in turn is used to create whatever else the body needs. Chakra isn't created this way--at least, not solely. Well, you know all about that spiel about spiritual energy and body energy combining to make chakra, right? Which in turn is used for various jutsu? Basic Academy stuff, right?"

Hinata nodded, returning a small smile.

"The creation of, for example, ATP--er, body energy--produces waste, which our body needs to get rid off through excretion. This process is no longer intact in Mr. Walking Corpse. In fact, a good many other processes in his body isn't working anymore. What was running his body was solely chakra, controlled amounts of it. When you found him, five out of eight of the Inner Gates have been opened, with the fifth still trickling enough chakra to keep some parts of his body still functioning--even with his brain spattered all over the place. He was basically a melting candle about to sputter out."

"He was ninja then?"

"Not necessarily. Even we don't normally manipulate our Inner Gates. They're there as safety mechanisms after all, so we don't just suddenly expend all our energy and die at a snap. In fact, Lee-san and Gai-sensei are the only people I know off who do use the Inner Gates. At any rate, any person is theoretically capable of manipulating chakra. Obviously, we ninja have transformed this into practically our way of life. This man, meanwhile, was a victim."

"Some sort of immortality experiment?"

Sakura sighed. "That's one take on it. I'm afraid Orichimaru will keep hanging out at the back of our minds for a long, long time." She stopped, suddenly aware of Hinata's facial expression. "I'm not making you lose your lunch, am I, Hinata-chan?" she asked guiltily.

"No," Hinata swiftly assured her. "Not really."

"Well, I'm feeling a little queasy myself," the pink-haired girl said absently. "Where was I? The pink dust. I was about to talk about the pink dust."

"The pink dust?" Realization dawned on the Hyuuga girl's face. "Oh, I remember now. Neji-nii found some in the corpse's stomach. You don't think Mr. Walking Corpse was with the Yakuza either, do you, Sakura-san?"

"Not really, no. This semi-dead corpse thing is way out of the Yakuza's league. Too expensive for one thing. They wouldn't invest on something as inefficient as this. There wasn't even enough pink dust in him for a good tidy profit one comes to expect from drug trafficking."

"So the pink dust was just some sort of subterfuge?"

"A pathetic one, at that." Sakura rolled her eyes. "At least, that's what I thought first. Until I discovered something odd about them."

"If I remember correctly, the pink dust was found in little corn-like kernels that protected it from the stomach acid."

"Yes, it was found in corn-like kernels. But we found that those little kernels weren't as a matter of fact designed to withstand hydrochloric acid--not indefinitely, at least."

"Huh?"

"The casing disintegrates and they do so variably, such that the pink dust is released to the body at different times, different rates."

The heiress maintained her puzzled expression.

"I mentioned it's been hectic the past few days."

"Yes, you did."

"Well, about a week ago Mr. Walking Corpse did exactly what his name says, and more--he tried to take out one of my researchers. Thankfully, it was in the middle of an impromptu sort of class with a number of apprentices. There were at least three of us available to subdue him. Now, that really freaked me out, more than excited me. Later, when we were re-examining him, we discovered resyroxas-L15 in his system--basically, it's a form of metabolized pink dust. It's what it becomes once what we call the Roses break off the compound and stick to the nerve endings and stimulate the reward pathways of the brain." Sakura caught herself and smiled lopsidedly. "Er, it's basically what gives people the high when they do pink dust. Not only is it very addictive, the waste products it produces are also highly toxic. High doses can shut down the kidneys just like that, while long term use eats away at the liver."

"And it opens the Inner Gates?" Hinata guessed.

"Apparently so," Sakura confirmed, nodding absently. "Apparently so. We discovered the sixth gate open--it's probably the energy source that allowed Mr. Corpse to suddenly attack like that. Anyway, we collected the old empty kernels still floating about his stomach. We studied it and like I said, we found that they were releasing pink dust in his system in sudden bursts, as if calculated to release at exact times. It seems that the sudden high amounts of pink dust just unleashes the Gate. A normal person would just die, see, but this thing, person, 'awakens' again and again--at least eight times, I suppose--because it's not really alive anymore, but is suspended in something resembling living. I guess, this specimen's damaged, of course. Otherwise, we'd probably witness something more. . . worse."

Hinata seemed unable to speak for a few moments. "I. . ." she sighed, then shook her head once as if to dispel her thoughts. "What do you think was he used for?"

Sakura shrugged. "We don't know how complex he could still 'think' and plan, but I'm guessing, he could still do a lot. But like I said, I think he has a set of instructions he merely follows."

"So. . ." Hinata mustered. "He could have been a spy. Or an assassin."

"Not sure about spy. Assassin, maybe."

"Oh, I see," was the quiet reply.

The rest of their lunch had gotten cold.

* * *

The fourth day at the Autumn Festival, the third if the month this year, usually involved a dance of sorts. It was fairly traditional fare; the plaza in front of the Hokage faces was ablaze with the lanterns handmade by the village children and adult enthusiasts. Attires generally consisted of the autumn yukata, as the graceful group dances themselves remained fairly sedate enough for them. The children weaved among the milling grown-ups, their laughter sweetening the music from the well-placed speakers scattered about the area. Food, of course, was present in abundance. There were loosely arranged little pockets of performances, prepared by a number of ninja clans or groups, that interspersed the traditional, almost-ritualistic dances. It ranged from quirky little skits to beguiling little shadow plays. The choral group comprised of chuunin kunoichi chose to expose a little too much leg--or so the village elders muttered among themselves--but their singing, as well as everything else about the evening remained wholesome. Rock Lee, one of the organizers of this year's celebration, wept openly at the sight, unable to restrain the burst of good feelings in his chest.

Needless to say some people opted for less tamed entertainment.

The Konoha club scene was a peculiar thing to behold. There was an almost palpably dangerous edge to even the tiniest of interactions therein. After all, one was in very tight quarters with trained professional killers, each one attuned to the others minutest movements, a force of habit, perhaps. It didn't help that a lot of them had strong, battle-sculpted bodies, and though nobody claimed all ninja could dance, the clumsy two-left-legged creatures were far in between, never mind that some moves blatantly mimicked taijutsu sequences and could barely pass as dancing. To an outsider, the idea of the elite shinobi hitting the clubs, looking for something fun to do (no pun intended), to forget for a few hours the conundrum that was their contradictory lives, bordered on romantic and kicked up the sexy by several notches.

Alcohol, of course, remained a major factor--Ninja did lose control, too.

But mostly, people went there to meet up with friends, even ironically to just talk.

Inuzuka Kiba noted there were particular individuals in their circle who were conspicuously absent and _present_ that night. Haruno Sakura had some valid excuse, it seemed, but Uzumaki Naruto had no one to vouch for him. His no-show prompted a number of startled remarks, and murderous grousing from Kiba, as the blond jounin rarely missed such things, even going as far as rearranging his loose life schedule in advance. Goodness knows, it was one of the limited activities the villagers allowed him to share with only a few snide remarks.

Most of what Kiba had christened the G-9 (+3 to account for Team Gai), more often than not gravitated together in such gatherings simply because of the loose but interlaced connection among its members. Kiba, for instance, was there to meet with Hyuuga Neji. Neji was there to escort his cousin Hinata-chan (whom Kiba didn't mind seeing, of course, especially when he found her as easily vulnerable to sly teasings as usual). Nara Shikamaru was there just because he happened to be there--who knew, really? (Kiba had heard funny rumors about his mom pressuring him to date, though.) Yamanaka Ino was there because he was hounding the oddly in-demand, recently appointed special operations chief. Uchiha Sasuke, apparently, was also there because of Hinata-chan.

Never mind that Neji's and Sasuke's respective presence were unnerving--it was a club, for crying out loud! What where those two stoic guys planning to do there? They were a potential source of entertainment for Kiba, however, so he initially didn't comment on their presence beyond the playful double-take he performed when they first arrived. Hinata-chan had to endure a tad more than that. Being her genin cell mate, Kiba knew how far to go with the teasing. The Hyuuga girl's pale face was suffused with a vibrant rosiness. She feinted each of Kiba's jabs with practiced mildness, only stuttering once when Kiba commented on jealousy and the art of being able to juggle the men in her life well.

"I--I don't know what you;re talking about, K-kiba-kun," she protested mildly.

"Well, if you want to keep your little lady secrets, that's fine," Kiba replied airily. "It's getting old, anyway. I've been teasing you about that since when? Since we were eleven? Time to move on, huh?" And so proceeded to tease her about making a gentleman out of Sasuke, who bore it all with his usual laconic fortitude.

"Sasuke-kun!" a harried voice broke into their lazy conversation--i.e. yelled louder above the din than they were doing so already. "I know how much Haruno can get annoying sometimes, but if you did away with her or something, I'd have to take steps. I love her to death, don't you know, so I think I deserve _that_ honor!"

Sasuke didn't take that in kind. Neji seemed amuse, judging from the sardonic arch of an eyebrow. Kiba merely shook his head; there were simply things better left unexplained.

"Ino-san!" Hinata yelled over the music. "Sakura-san's in her lab."

"WHAT?! That forehead girl had the guts to abandon me to this shadow-freak jackass for one of her creepy experiments?"

"Er. . ." Hinata squirmed as the blonde bore down on her, hips swinging like a pendulum. "She sends her apologies to everyone. She wanted me to pass it on to you."

Ino became serious. "Something wrong?"

"I think not," assured the Hyuuga. "Sakura-san seems excited."

"Ugh!" Ino threw both hands in the air in exasperation. "That girl and her penchant for chasing after _cadavers_." She actually sneered. "Geeze... That Sakura-chan! Why did you abandon me for work? I think I'll go sulk at home."

"Why don't you," Shikamaru muttered his approval of the plan. "Instead of hounding innocent bystanders into suicide."

"Don't even go there!" Ino retorted, somehow hearing the mumbled complaint amidst the noise. "It's your fault I'm stuch here in Konoha tonight. And I had to cancel a blind date in Wildflower City. Wildflower City! It must have taken the poor guy months to get one measly reservation."

"Why didn't you?" came the disinterested response.

"Because I thought _I've_ arranged for a highly important meeting that was finally going to push through, why else?"

"You've already talked to her people, didn't you? Why do you have to go through me? Talk to her yourself."

"I thought that was exactly what I was doing until you somehow got it into your head to _presume_ to know my schedule better than myself! You even went out of your way to cancel my meeting with her. What the hell was that about?!"

"Weren't you the one who said you'd be busy off somewhere with missions and what-not?"

"Yes, but I've canceled all that just for this--and I needed overtime! What am I, some flighty airhead who can't get her priorities straight? This is my project. Of course, I'd go out of my way to make it work. I have to be flexible to change plans, if necessary."

"Well, there you go: plans changed. Stop complaining about that stupid date."

"Well, FYI," Ino huffed like an engine. "I'd rather be in that stupid date instead of talking to somebody who isn't even listening to me."

"Why are you here, then?"

"BECAUSE I AM!" Ino finally exploded. "Wildflower city is three days away! How MANY times do I have to repeat myself?!"

"Zero."

"UGH! I've had enough of you." She grabbed the by-standing Hyuuga by a wrist. "Let's dance, Hinata-chan. You're coming too, Sasuke-kun. And _you_. You owe me this, at the least! Don't make me make you!"

Shikamaru and Hinata didn't have much of a choice about it as they were dragged off to the dance floor. Sasuke, possibly forced by some polite behavior he thought he had to subscribe to sauntered after them at a much slower, less enthusiastic pace. Neji remained behind and turned to Kiba.

"I'm right there with you, bro," Kiba said with a huge grin. "The protective oneesama's gone, so we can get down to business. Now, where's my date?"

Neji looked at him oddly.

"You wanted to talk to me, right? Something about your cute little cousin only I can help with? So where is the alluring Hanabi?"

"Tell me about Marima?"

"Marima? Eh? I haven't dated her before, sorry. Isn't there any other girl you like? The deal's still on right?" Kiba began looking around, sniffing the air. "Is she here?"

"Hinata-sama's mission in Marima. You were there with her, when they attempted to kidnap and kill her."

"Those Serrator dudes?" Kiba said, his smile turning feral. "Yeah, I was there. I nicely gift-wrapped one of them, just for Hinata-chan. Though we might have overdid the desecrate-the-dead part. You don't think we did, did we, Akamaru?"

"Yuu Shinosuke?"

"Yeah, I think that was him." Kiba frowned. "You're interested in him specifically?"

"Yes."

"He didn't seem to be anybody particularly special. He was the mednin, and he healed the usual injuries and stuff. Though I have to say, it was pretty impressive how he stopped one of his comrades from bleeding to death after that attack. . .most people die. Aw, Akamaru, it's not _your_ fault."

Akamaru growled his disagreement.

"Anyway, he wasn't unusual or anything.I'd have remembered otherwise."

"How about his ability to reverse the effects of the Jyuuken. You didn't find that unusual?"

"Oh, that wasn't him."

Neji seemed to still.

"That wasn't him," Kiba repeated.

". . . Who?"

"Yukimura Bloodshanks."

end chapter

031408

* * *

AN: There. I've been delaying posting, but I can't think of how else to fix it. Ah, a few things. First of all, I really really appreciate all of everybody's comments. They're motivating for one thing, but more importantly, it helps me refocus. This fic has been years in the making and I feel like the original premise and plot I had four years ago has departed so much from the manga canon. (I haven't been closely following the manga, to answer that question, but I'm aware of most of the developments from reading other people's blogs. I can't stand the suspense, hehe.)

Pairings. . . I hope the next chapter would make some people's feelings clearer.

Priscalthum and shnickers, your thorough blow-by-blow comments blew me away, and I've certainly mused on what you've shared. I still dream of being able to answer most of the comments I receive. (Dream is the operative word, wah.) I usually think of half-answers when I read some of the questions, but I don't get the chance to write them down, because I'm a procrastinator and I suck.)

Anyway, thank you for reading, everyone, and thank you for the comments. It's a struggle to conk out each new chapter, but I will be hardheaded. I'll cling to this baby.

Next chapter: Hinata, Neji, and Sakura muse on what has passed.


	18. Chapter 17: Touch Me Not

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Kishimoto Masahi. Only borrowing for entertainment purposes only. No monetary gain involved whatsoever.

**Chapter 17: Touch Me Not**

November was cold. The days passed with surreal brevity, hardly making separate impressions on her mind. They were filled with some activity, for sure; she was out of the mansion all day everyday. Something as repetitive as weeding the local vegetable gardens with a newly-formed genin cell, as elementary as teaching a bunch of seven year-olds basic taijutsu skills occupied her. There has been a few more consequential chores than those she usurped from the chuunins and genins, but she couldn't think up one of the top of her head. Perhaps, her memory was failing her.

Yet evidence contradicted this melodramatic notion. She remembered well. Hinata herself was startled at the amount of information she managed to retain, merely by keeping in the background, blending with the scenery. She had always been very attuned to the goings on around her; this was how she remained a part of things, a rare contributor but a nuanced archivist.

Hyuuga Hinata wasn't accustomed to being the speaker, be it in a companionable duo or a sizable group. It took her a while to get used to it, but she seemed to be getting the hang of it, more easily slipping out of the awkward, halting beginnings her stories usually sputtered from. Sasuke seemed to expect those tales from her, ever since the day he unceremoniously and politely asked her to tell him about her life.

Her life. . .

Well, it revolved around being kunoichi, she figured, so she spoke of that mostly. Discussing her training habits was easy; he seemed to approve her rigorous, disciplined schedule. She only touched on her responsibilities as a Hyuuga very briefly, and he did not pry further. She didn't speak much of the Hyuuga.

She had a lot to say about her beloved Kurenai-sensei, and almost as much, her genin teammates. She spoke of Shino and Kiba and Akamaru, reminisced on old missions, their missions as chuunins, the safe ones. . .

She spoke of missions with the then Team Asuma, the then Team Kakashi, then Team Gai, mostly humorous little anecdotes that prompted a smirk, a snort, or even a short bark of laughter from her taciturn companion. He listened with more than passing interest about a number of licensure exams, of victors and losers, of what made the minutest difference between pass and failure. The one that made her a chuunin was of particular interest, it seemed, a tad more sedate than the one they joined at age twelve, with much less drama, she supposed, though not necessarily technically easier.

He spoke back sometimes, adding a detail here and there from other versions of the stories she told, presumably from various retelling he had heard from others. He didn't talk about himself.

One day, he even asked about Naruto-kun.

"What about the dobe?" he said unceremoniously, after listening to how a badly scheduled "blind date" ended up in an all-out bar fight among several jounins. "Considering how he's always in everybody's face, where was he?"

She decided to tread carefully on this matter, not really knowing what to expect. "He wasn't here either, Sasuke-san," she stammered.

"Not only in this story."

Hinata became thoughtful. Come to think of it, she didn't really have a lot of stories that involved her and Naruto-kun. Oh, she had stories about him, of course, but those were stories she had collated as a by-passer, a spectator. She felt those tales were not hers to tell. "Hmm. . . The Chanting Falls--"

Sasuke gave her a rather dirty look. "I've heard five versions. If I hear another one, I'll puke."

Hinata took a moment to struggle with herself. "Er, Sasuke-san," she finally resumed. "Not to sound pompous or anything. . . I've always thought of you and Naruto-kun as close friends."

Sasuke didn't protest that, so she continued.

"I just thought I wouldn't really have any stories about him that you wouldn't already know about."

Naruto-kun did like talking after all. He was usually bursting with stories, and she could easily picture him forcing chronicles of his adventures on the Uchiha, no matter how unwilling the latter was to hear them. The ghastly look on her companion's face was confirmation enough.

"Aside from that time you weren't here, of course," Hinata murmured diplomatically. She didn't want to tell those. Even if she did, what she knew was fragmented and second-hand, half-jesting tales that tended to mock even the most impressive of Naruto-kun's exploits. Granted the stories were usually good-natured and slyly acknowledging, they were probably still colored by the general outlook of most of the villagers on the rowdy jounin, which was still mostly negative. (Plus, Naruto-kun himself tended to editorialize, tended to make his recollections a tad more fantastical than reality.)

"So you think my life is that involved with that idiot's." It wasn't a question.

"Erm. Yes?"

"And yet, I don't know where you factor in."

A puzzled frown crossed Hinata's face.

"You."

"Me?"

"How did you become friends with Naruto?"

"Same as you. In school, then later as a comrade in missions." Hadn't she answered this question before?

"That's not very specific."

". . . I don't really understand the question," Hinata confessed. "I m-mean, how do people usually become friends?"

"The dobe isn't usual. He traps people to him."

"Traps?"

"Not consciously." She could have sworn he rolled his eyes. "He doesn't have enough brain mass for that."

"What do you want to find out, exactly?" she ventured timidly.

"Fate, someone, decided I needed a permanent thorn at my side. I was placed on the same genin cell as Uzumaki Naruto." He trained his unreadable eyes at her. "How are you oriented in his happy, squeaky-clean universe?"

"Damsel in distress?" Hinata suggested wryly, responding to the surprisingly sardonic undertone to her companion's voice. "Is that believable enough?"

"Considering he's as dense as a rock? Yes and no."

Hinata laughed, still slightly bemused. "Would you believe it, if I say I really can't remember?"

Sasuke didn't even blink.

"Fair enough," she murmured. "How about the time I started believing he could become a friend?"

"Why? Did he fall from some pedestal?"

"No!" Hinata reddened. "I m-mean--"

"I know all about your respective fights against Neji that chuunin exam," he said bluntly, straightening up from his slouch. "Hardly damsel in distress. I was there."

She supposed it was a roundabout way of expressing approval of sorts from her undemonstrative suitor. But she was distracted by the vague memory of Sasuke-san being somehow absent when those events transpired. She was pretty sure he was unconscious during her fight, and. . . well, she didn't get to see much of Naruto-kun's fight with Neji-nii to know if Sasuke even saw part of it. Still, it was the first time Sasuke-san even acknowledged the her from that time.

"I decided I wanted to stand straighter," she said reluctantly.

Sasuke nodded. "I'm listening." He reclined back on the tatami mats, eyes tracing what was visible of the drab autumn skies.

Hinata took a sip of tea and began.

"One day, during those eventful chuunin exam days when we were twelve, I thought I was dreaming."

* * *

One day, she was dreaming. It wasn't really a strange dream, as far as dreams went. It wasn't much of a dream, actually. They were just a jumbled collection of images stringed together to form a repetitive, puzzling story. She supposed many of the images were drawn from real-life events, things that really did happen only recently: her fighting with Neji-nii, her losing horribly and painfully. What mystified her was the way the her in the dream kept on standing up and barely succeeding. She looked awful; she was dead on her feet and only her skin must be holding her together. It looked liked the Jyuken had virtually beaten her innards to pulp.

Yet, it was a pleasant dream, too. It was nicely romantic, like those magnificent adventures and fantastical epics she had read. If she hadn't known it was her swaying there, eyes glazed over, she would have thought her as another heroine in a dramatic last stand in some tragedic play. This time, however, the audience was riveted by her._ He_ was riveted by her.

But it was so unrealistic, no matter what angle she looked at, on that silent movie. She wondered for the nth time whether she had merely dreamed up the fight, the entire chuunin qualification exam--she was only twelve years old, after all--whether it was possible to dream within a dream.

She must have shifted. Simultaneously, two sharp stabs of pain blossomed in her awareness. Her smarting eyes were soothed, almost as soon as she she shut them against the shaft of sunlight peeping from the half-drawn window, but the pain on her chest twisted deeper and knifed down to the rest of her viscera, lingered long enough to drive her to full consciousness. It was a harsh dose of reality.

She remembered that she did indeed participate in the chuunin exams, and thanks to Kiba-kun and Shino-kun, had even passed the first and second tests. There were too many candidates for the third test, so the sensei had staged an elimination match-off. She lost to Neji-nii.

Neji-nii must not have gotten the chance to kill her, she realized ruefully. She woke up, days later she was told, in the intensive care wing of Konoha hospital, strapped to wires and surrounded by a dull, annoying beeping. (It had been her dull, annoying heart, being monitored by the machines.) They discharged her only two days ago, so it must have been two weeks since the fight. She had overheard some of the grown-ups talking about how they couldn't get the rhythm of her heart to normalize and that was why it took so long for them to release her. As she had been doing since she became genin, she stayed in Kurenai-sensei's home.

The Hyuuga had sent word permitting her to go home, so she figured there were still concerned enough to want to keep her alive. Kurenai-sensei relented enough for the branch families to hear Hinata herself say no. They haven't come back thereafter, but she realized she was still the Hyuuga heiress, even if only in name, since they had bothered with such a formality.

As far as she was concerned, however, Kurenai-sensei's home was the homiest home she had ever had. Even though it did sometimes smell of cigarettes (which was funny, since her teacher didn't smoke), she didn't want to go back to the Hyuuga mansion. (Maybe she would later, when she felt a lot better, but it would be much later, for sure.) Anyway, she didn't think they really wanted her back yet.

See, that was another thing that convinced her she didn't dream any of it. She would have dreamed it much better, if it was so. She wouldn't have been so pathetic, for one thing, so easily duped into thinking she even had a fighting chance against the Hyuuga genius. Some of her Jyuukenho attacks would have reached their mark and she would have noticed the decreasing efficiency of her chakra release well before most of her chakra network become occluded. Taking it a step further, she wouldn't have been in such a fight in the first place. Neji-nii wouldn't hate her so much in a dream world. Otousama wouldn't despise her as much.

Neji-nii's hatred had always been there, as far as she could remember, though she hadn't always identified it as such until she learned of what happened to his father, her uncle, when she was around eight or nine years old. If she had ever doubted her rightfulness for the position of Hyuuga head, it has never been as strong, as nearly incapacitating, as then. She couldn't imagine killing someone in her place, much less Hanabi-chan, even if it was to protect the clan or the village. Logically, she eventually realized that it wasn't her fault, but it was so hard not to think about it, so hard not to agree sometimes. In the end, she decided that she could live with Neji-nii's hatred. It was just another burden of the Main Family. She was going to try to be as strong as she could be, but she was only twelve years old.

No.

She was _already_ twelve.

What else could she do then? Training was the obvious answer. They--Kurenai-sensei, Kiba, and Shino--all said she was improving. But it was obviously not enough to make a difference in actual missions, not enough to make otousama happy, and wasn't that what counted? And yet, she could still go back to the training fields, even now. She _wanted_ to go right that moment, but her body felt too heavy to budge from the futon. Instead, she went through the forms of the Jyuuken in her mind.

Tenacity was the word, if she remembered it correctly.

She must have fallen asleep again, because she started violently when a solid thump made her whole head vibrate. She rolled away from her attacker with surprising agility, only to freeze halfway, pinioned by the explosion of pain yet again. She would have conveniently passed out right then, but there were other, more mortifying things going on.

"Hot--!" A string of bad words. "Hot, hot, HOT!"

Naruto-kun's voice. He sounded upset.

"Man!" More colorful words. "This sucks!"

He sounded very upset.

Hinata opened her eyes, and there he was, doing the strangest. . . He was bouncing on his haunches, clawing at his face, and basically just flailing around. There was gooey white material dripping down from his spiky head.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!"

. . . Naruto-kun. Naruto-kun was in her room. Panic immediately overrode the pain, streaking her need to stay still with an overwhelming urge to bolt. But movement seemed an impossibility and she found her heart suddenly far outpacing the rest of her body. Its heavy pounding footfalls sped up and slowed down in turns, but always maintaining a maddening speed that swallowed her ears, devoured her chest.

From a distance, she could still hear Naruto talking, trying to defeat whatever unseen enemy he was dueling with. . .

The force was sudden and brutal--it knocked the wind off her. At first, she struggled to get her breath back, but then she stopped, fettered by. . . the most horrible thing in the world! It wasn't the anxiety elephant sitting on her chest. It was Naruto-kun!

"Wah! Hinata-chan!" his voice crowed, oddly from far away. "Sorry, sorry! I tripped again. I tripped--"

She didn't dare breath.

"Hey. . . You still alive down there?"

Naruto-kun was shaking her like a rag doll.

"H-Hey. It's not funny. Hey!"

Hinata's head felt like a balloon. Filling up with hot air. La la la Floating up to the skies and bumping against clouds. Bam, bam, bam!

"Shit. I think-- I think I squashed her." He dropped her like a rock and scrambled back. "Oh, shit."

At least, she could breath again, so she did. Her heart was back to a reasonable pace and it no longer sounded like it was skipping around like a clumsy genin. Warily, she opened one eye.

"Oh, good." The sigh he released was explosive. "You're not dead." He began laughing sheepishly. "I thought I was gonna have freaky-eyed oldies after my ass with their canes and stuff."

"Won't." Hinata mumbled. Tired out, she simply went along with the strange non-dream.

"They won't?" Naruto repeated, frowning. "Why not?"

_Because otousan hates me._

"Aren't you their all-important whatchamacallit?"

Once again, she didn't answer.

"I got you ramen," he announced loudly, before simmering down to a mutter. "It's all over you and me now. Hope you're not too upset about that. I mean, it's not like I'd blame you if you are, you know? I'm pretty pissed myself. That was the Ichiraku Thursday special, with extra bits of dried fish in it, and double the amount of pork rinds, and special kind of hot peppers that pop in your mouth. I ran all the way to your house, you know? And then they told me you weren't there when I got there. Good thing I ran into Bug-boy who told me you're staying with what's-her-name-sensei." He shuddered suddenly. "Don't tell anyone, but Hyuuga people are freaky. So. Are you mad?"

"N-no," she murmured, oddly serene. "T-thank you."

"Bah, it's nothing. I figured a hot bowl of ramen should help you get better. I kinda forgot about you being in the hospital, actually. Busy, you know?"

"T-tr-training?"

"Very hard." Naruto was nodding seriously. "My teacher is this weird old man who's also a shameless open-pervert. Which reminds me, you know that public bath in Mango Street? Don't go there."

There was another pocket of silence before Hinata could muster up the voice to speak. "W-work hard, Na-na-naruto-ku-kun," she was finally able to say.

"Of course," he promised. "Don't worry about that asshat, Neji. I'll beat the crap out of him and show him what a loser can do." His brow furrowed quizzically. "Soon as I figure out how to make the froggie bigger, that is."

"H-hard."

"Yeah, very hard."

"T-tiring."

"That, too."

"T-they s-say I c-ca-can die try-t-trying."

"Nah," he answered sagely. "That's what ramen is for, ne?"

"R-ramen?"

"As long as you get the kind with everything in it, specially meat and veggies. You gotta stay healthy, you know?"

"Sleep?"

"Uh-huh. Speaking of sleep, I gotta go. I'm gonna try sleeping for sixteen hours tonight. Maybe that'll make the froggie summon get bigger."

"Uhn."

"Get better, 'kay? And you have to watch the finals."

"Y-yes."

"And, uh, I cleaned up the mess with this old shirt here. Whatcha want me to do with it?"

". . ."

"Okies. I'll leave it here," he said hastily before taking off.

Hinata became sure it wasn't a dream later, because Kurenai-sensei went ballistic when she came home and discovered her favorite night gown crumpled up in a mush of noodles and the slimy stench of fish.

Naruto-kun was. . . nice. Well, of course, he was, but he was even _nicer_ up close. And she even talked it him! It wasn't so bad. Maybe she didn't have to always just watch him from a distance. Maybe they could even be friends, one day, someday.

About a month later, after a gazillion sad things happened, Hinata agreed to go back home.

"Are you sure about this?" Kurenai-sensei asked her, worry palpable in the glaring furrow between her eyebrows.

"Yes," she answered. "It's not easy p-popping out froggies, much less big ones."

Kurenai had looked at her oddly, but in the end, let her student go.

Hinata was laughing.

* * *

The Hyuuga mansion could be likened to a puzzle box, a bewildering collection of rooms, partitioned by movable walls, interlaced by labyrinthine passageways. It made hearing and seeing so much easier, which was only appropriate for the secretive clan. It suited its members to learn that their only sanctum lay within their own skulls, to develop their ability to speak and act as discreetly as possible early in life. It wasn't, truth be told, a very comfortable way to grow up. Younger children, of course, were gifted by nature with a shielding obliviousness, but that only lasted till the children learned to look with their eyes, to listen with their ears, and to discern with their minds, what happened behind the moving walls, the shifting passages, the possibilities that lay behind the mask of a person's face. Neji himself couldn't remember much of such blissful ignorance.

The problem, as it ever was, was that he he saw too much, but always, always, a minuscule of a degree not enough.

He would grudgingly admit that he had spent his formative years hating his family. His hatred of the main family was well-known among the people who knew him and of him, but many didn't reach the obvious conclusion that he hated the branch family, as well. It had been the driving force behind the breakneck speed of learning, the fuel behind the exploits that made everyone bemoan his being borne of the wrong father. Without that hatred, he wouldn't have had the drive to explore and learn for himself, by himself, the secrets of the Hyuuga. (Which, objectively speaking, did not render the corollary automatically true, considering his relentless personality. His progress would have been at a more believable pace, however.)

Letting go of that hatred has been a long and as of yet unfinished process. It was no longer constantly there, hiding in the shadows of his every thought and action, but it _was_ there. Once in a while, it still tinged his opinions, though never enough to deviate him from the clearer, sharper view point.

Perhaps, he had fallen into something he had never expected he would: complacency. He had become. . . satisfied with his station in life. He enjoyed an autonomy that enabled him to exercise a fair amount of power, to influence outcomes within and without the clan. There hasn't been a need to test boundaries, but he never doubted their existence. There were. . . differences.

Did it all boil down to power then? Was he bound to ambition as intricately as any other man? If indeed he was caged, the walls of said cage extended far beyond the constant detection of his senses. Was there then a need for escape?

Adaptation was a key survival skill for any species. No--to be alive meant being able to adapt. Perhaps, he had merely learned to maneuver well inside his bounds. That he had. . . accepted the possibility of no escape.

Until now, that is, with such a possibility tantalizingly presenting itself.

They, he, had known that a ninja may have possibly been able to reverse the effects of the Jyuuken while in battle. The news was slightly disturbing, anomalous, but nothing was done beyond routine investigation of the mednin Naga Yuuhi's background, which ended in a cold trail, an unremarkable career of a Stone nin. He never seemed to have had any contact with a Hyuuga (which didn't necessarily mean anything,) and inconveniently, the Mist nins had his body.

Inuzuka Kiba's revelation changed things. It meant the possible breaching of the impenetrable Hyuuga secrets. It meant that Yukimura Bloodshanks may have counteracted the Jyuuken through some method developed from research and study, a technique tested and practiced well beforehand. (His supposed ability to ape blood limit jutsu was far-fetched and largely debunked by Tenten's research, but it had to be kept in consideration all the same.) It wasn't an anomaly, wasn't some peculiar bloodline ability. Neji's thoughts led speedily to his father's body in the hands of the Cloud nins, the Cloud nins who triggered the events that led to his death, and a compelling hypothesis formed in his mind. It was simple: the Cloud nins were able to bypass the Hyuuga curse.

The bird seal in his forehead was more than a constant reminder of his subservience under the main family. It was there to protect the Hyuuga secrets, to bind ones corpse in such a way that no secret could be divulged from it, ensured that the secret of the Jyukken, among many things, remained a secret.

Supposedly.

It appeared the Cloud may have benefited from the body of Hyuuga Hirashi after all. Perhaps, they have learned from a Hyuuga's chakra systems how to speedily reverse their efforts. Didn't that just as speedily nullify his father's sacrifice? Didn't that just make the fact that he lost an entirely different kind of childhood, and possibly a different kind of future, utterly meaningless?

Or did it merely coat his every thought with paranoia, dab his tongue with that stinging, pungent bitterness?

Dwelling on the possibilities, on what came to be and what went wrong, was foolhardy and overly theatrical. In every game, the level could shift at any given moment, could leave your whole life's work compromised one second or bring you absolute victory the next. Adaptation: the Hyuuga would simply evolve itself into something better, stronger, more powerful, and more formidable. The ancient Hyuuga pervaded the earth too deeply for it to simply dissipate away at every challenge it faced. It will endure.  
But it did offer--

_chance_

He sneered in spite of himself, for entertaining such a childish fantasy. The issue at hand was foremost Hinata-sama's safety. Yukimura Bloodshanks defected from Cloud. For what reason? His political viewpoints were contrary to those prevailing in Kunigakure no sato. Familial troubles ran rampant through out Bloodshank's life. What he knew of the Hyuuga was likely to be stolen knowledge and therefore likely incomplete. Was Bloodshanks then completely working independently of the Clan Sanada, of Kunigakure no Sato, or was it a concordant effort?

Was it one man's obsessive quest for revenge or something more insidious? Was it something as incidental as the Serrators running into Hinata's team in Marima that prompted Bloodshanks to come after Hinata-sama? Either way, it meant Bloodshanks found whatever he knew of the Hyuuga insufficient, meant he suspected only the elite members of the clan held the reigns to the family secrets, as it was in many shinobi clans. Given Yukimura Bloodshanks reception of Shinoda Iga, and vice versa, it seemed too convenient to put all blame on the missing nin. (Shinoda Iga and his team of children fit nothing and remained seemingly innocuous. They were somewhere in the west now, still under hire to the Prince Amarillo.)

Neji had also learned more about the tracking powder/poison the Serrators had used on Hinata. It was, as initially theorized, some engineered virus but the chemical malatanol, which was thought to have poisoned Hinata-sama, was not the vector, but simply a by-product. The vector was the yeast itself that produced it. The virus were parasitic on the malato yeast, a rare fungus in the jungles southwest of the continent. These yeast did not ordinarily infect humans, but the infusion of the infamous pink dust in the culturing medium seemed to catalyse the mutations being caused by the bioengineered virus on the yeast and even became a part of their cell wall (details Neji didn't really need). The yeast in their inactive form came as a powdery inhalation. Only a tiny amount would actually reach the lungs, what with the body's natural defense mechanisms, but what little did lodged there, feeding off the excess chakra exuded by the dense pathways crisscrossing the thorax and thus able to indefinitely pulsate in reaction to Bloodshank's chakra. The by-product malatanol surprisingly stabilized the pink dust-infused cellwall of the yeast (again, more details than Neji cared for) and prevented it from disintegrating as rapidly as it usually would, thereby forming self-sustaining little parasites that Bloodshanks' body seemed perfectly in synch with.

The version Bloodshanks used in Chanting Falls, in conjunction with the Mist nin's technique, worked similarly. The Mist Technique activated the powder and kept it airborne, while Bloodshanks kept the cloud of spores pulsating by generating a constant trickle of chakra. It created the cloud of light that initially inhibited the Leaf & Cloud nins' sight, even Neji's, during the ambush.

The theory of the mednins was thus: Hinata inhaled the tracking dust in Marima, had reacted badly to the malatanol and altered pink dust combination, which caused a problem in her heart's conduction system. Bloodshanks had to be within a certain distance of her to be able to track her down through the parasites in her body, which could either mean they had known Hinata-sama was going to Chanting Falls or they had been merely hovering about Fire Country, waiting for an opportunity. The time table they drew based on evidence supported the latter.

The technology, they all decided, was far too sophisticated to have been developed by a group as ragtag as the Serrators. It was a Cloud technique, no doubt, particularly because Shinoda Iga had been able to remove the tracking material from Hinata-sama's body. The question boiled down to, how aware was Kunigakure no Sato of all these events? Were they simply turning a blind eye to their prodigal son's escapades, or was it all orchestrated with their blessing? Considering how ignorant the rest of the Serrators were of Bloodshanks' plans on the Hyuuga heiress, it remained unclear to where Yukimura Bloodshanks loyalty and enmity truly lay.

It was all well and good to ponder over these things, but Neji didn't simply sit in one corner to think. Though evidence seemed to build towards the Cloud, it only raised questions about the Hyuuga involvement in the whole situation. Granted a plot against Hinata-sama may indeed really exist, the Hyuuga clan seemed decidedly reactionary, even before Cloud's apparent involvement.

What happened eighteen years ago?

In that avenue, silence still prevailed. Nobody else dared add to Hiashi's story. He still found no documentation of anything relating to that event.

There was, however, a disgusting amount of satisfaction pervading the house over the seemingly good terms between Hinata-sama and the Uchiha. At this point, he supposed, there wasn't really any reason to oppose the match. At least, there was one thing going well for his besieged cousin.

After all, Hinata-sama was laughing.

* * *

The various shapes of glassware could morph her face into a number grotesque masks. This particular boiling flask, simmering with a glowing cyan liquid, rendered her an insect-like creature, her wide eyes dominating the girth of the transparent container. Sakura stared at her reflection absently, even as she mentally sorted through the rows of equation scribbled on the notepad before her, formulating and dismissing solutions as easily as she breathed. She could be pretty when she made an effort, she thought in between the numbers and variables floating in her mind. Failing that, she had a pleasant, non-offensive face, even with her prominent forehead exposed. Her hair color was unique enough to warrant her a second look from strangers and her eye color matched its flowery pink hue. The ruts under her eyes, however, were not permanent fixtures on her visage, and she found them unsightly. They reminded her of a certain somebody who probably had chronic sleep problems, though he always denied it so. Her sleeplessness, unlike his, was mostly elective.

She's practically lived in the mednin quarters for the past couple of weeks. She hasn't seen much of anybody, with the exception of Hinata, who had been visiting in her office for their usual Clique meetings. Ino dropped by once to berate her for missing yet another of her infamous blind dates. Naruto was probably off wandering with the Toad sennin or whatever it was he did whenever he felt the village walls too stifling, and they haven't really talked since they parted in disagreement over a mutual friend. She hasn't seen said mutual friend yet either, but then Sasuke was like the moon, who came in phases. He'd turn up at some point, so she didn't think much of it. Her worrying was simply a force of habit, see. She didn't even bother to go to the usual places they met at, knowing he wouldn't be there.

Ruefully, Sakura admitted she didn't exactly have a battalion of friends at hand. Mostly, she blamed her rigorous schedule as a mednin, not to mention her additional duties: training the apprentices, taking part in the various research projects, and studying for her ever approaching exam. Of late, she hadn't been doing as much studying as she was capable of, needing something less passive and more consuming. (Ordinarily, she could study like a fiend, foregoing food and sleep for days on end. Nowadays she could get easily distracted). The studies on Mr. Walking Corpse wouldn't usually fall to her lap, but they needed her to fill in for staffing deficits and she needed the hectic schedule it demanded, while it lasted.

Mr. Walking Corpse was probably now mummified by the body-cleaners and very discreetly buried somewhere he could easily be exhumed from. They were fairly sure he wasn't going to be doing any more walking, and that he was definitely, clinically, and completely dead, from the systemic down to the cellular level.

As Sakura had been explaining to Hinata (who seemed a safe enough bouncing board of ideas), the dead man did have another resurrection, a dangerous event that summoned even the members of the ANBU to contain the resulting clamor. The release of the seventh and final gate released such power that the corpse would have escaped from, no, decimated the laboratories, had it not been such a damaged specimen. Sakura was convinced now that it at least had the most basic awareness still present in that minimally functional brain, that it was the primal demand of fighting or fleeing that prompted the stilted attack. As her and her team earlier theorized, the attack was preceded by the sudden rise of the rose chains in the man's blood and followed by an explosion of monstrous amounts of chakra. The man was indeed powered by sheer spiritual energy. (In retrospect, it was such an irresponsible thing to have allowed the presence of such a volatile creature within the village walls, within reach of innocent civilians. It still made her blood run cold.)

Gross tissue analysis was. . . well, it was gross business. Most of the guy's visceral organs have been reduced to something brittle and honeycomb-like, easily disintegrating into sludge when prodded. It appeared also, that particular kinds of his cells had all somehow mutated, consisting mostly of mitochondria, the part responsible for generating energy. It sure gave "power cells," a new meaning.

It wasn't an entirely alien find, truth be told, though Sakura was careful to keep her mouth shut. She had encountered such before, very briefly, on a specimen stolen from Kabuto's laboratories. Okay, so the story was more roundabout than that. There was an escaped experimental subject, who bore an earlier, more unstable prototype of Orochimaru's curse seal, who managed to survive long enough to stay hidden in a remote civilian village in the Western continent. Sakura had found the man while in a sweep of missions geared on exterminating all traces of Orochimaru's activities for the last two decades (mostly to protect Konoha secrets--some of Orochimaru's discoveries, with some very careful tweaking, were actually beneficial in the medical and agricultural fields). She had pinched bits of his cadaver after he died.

The man was a once-famed Grass nin, universally thought to be dead. He was being kept alive by a witch-doctor in the village he sought refuge in. He was dosed by an interesting concoction of ordinarily, highly toxic herbs, which kept him living for at least five years after escaping from Sound.

Now with Orochimaru's curse seal, one thing determined the survival of the implanted specimen. That person must be strong enough to be able to force the curse seal back into a dormant stage, to keep it from spiraling out of control. The earlier versions of the curse seal did not develop into clear cut stages. They either exploded into a frenzied, one-time rush that literally burned out the carrier, or simply burned steadily and impotently, like a malignant cancer that slowly and excruciatingly devoured the subject. Back then, Sakura had reluctantly concluded that the changes in the body of that Grass nin was caused by the curse seal--Sasuke's curse seal did cause mutations, too, but only indefinitely, and the body's own defense mechanisms have the capacity to suppress them, given the right jutsu and the right supportive drugs immediately at hand. In light of her studies of Mr. Walking Corpse, however, Sakura was finding herself believing it was actually the toxic chemicals that gradually altered the body of the Grass nin.

Speaking of physiological alterations, the odd thing about the Grass nin was that majority of his nervous system was anatomically intact, which could be evidence to the possibility of some sort of awareness still existent in some deep corner of the Grass nin's mind. (Indeed, Mr. Walking Corpse could have very well been sentient, and she did, albeit only briefly, toy with the challenge of saving such a patient.)

Another problem of the earlier curse seal prototypes was that they did not lie dormant for long, unlike the ones Sasuke and Anko-san bore that were activated at will. The Grass nin probably had to be regularly dosed by the witch doctor to not simply die of energy exhaustion at the uncontrolled released of the curse seal. It eventually turned him into a zombie-like creature, which the witch-doctor apparently used to terrorize the neighboring villages. It was zombie reports that prompted her investigation of the area in the first place.

The herbs she used consisted of the shangrila rosettes, the flower from which the pink dust was manufactured from. It was mixed with other medicinal plants and, almost aptly, the venom of a rare snake native to the area. They either counteracted or controlled the more malignant symptoms of each other, for example, the effects of pink dust on the liver and kidneys. Which explained how the man managed to survive for so long.

She was able to use what she learned from that Grass nin. At some point, she did use various extracts from the shangrilla rosettes, not just pink dust, mixing it with a variety of other drugs. Some worked better than others. Some. . . well, some were definitely more trouble than they were worth.

* * *

She turned eighteen that spring, for crying out loud, but she still didn't learned her lesson: some things were just more trouble than they're worth. Signing up for that stupid mission, for example, was much more trouble than it was worth. For one thing, it almost got her killed for practically no reason at all. For another, it almost got both Naruto and Sasuke killed, too.

Three chuunins assigned in to an S-class mission. The elders had gone up in flames when they found out, bringing it swiftly and loudly to Tsunade-sama's attention. The Hokage merely washed her hands off the whole debacle and the mission planner happily gave them the green light, with the blithe assurance that it was all going to be a piece of cake.

Fact of the matter was simply this: the three of them were formidable as a unit. The client was having trouble affording the going rate for jounins, so he agreed to risk chuunins, signed a waiver form, and hired the trio. By no means was Konoha undercutting, assured the assignment coordinator. The three of them would be more than sufficient, he said, a glibly confident statement Sakura had calmly agreed to at the time. In the aftermath, she was more inclined to agree with the elders.

What rankled the most was that they were winning. It was a gigantic tortoise, for crying out loud! Sure, it had enormous amounts of chakra at its disposal, but it was also subject to its animalistic instincts. A careful, canny plan would have worked out, and they had exactly that kind of plan ready and in place. It would have worked flawlessly, had one Uchiha Sasuke followed through.

First, they altered the geography of the immediate vicinity, creating a monstrous fissure in the earth, something she's usually opposed to, due to its effects on the local ecosystem. It effectively trapped her with the gigantic reptile in a water-flooded chasm--which was what they wanted in the first place! She was the only one capable of delivering a massive, single-blow attack at close-space, close-range, without alerting the beast with a sudden rise in chakra that would have accompanied an attack from either Sasuke or Naruto, which would have caused it to retract into its shell. Besides, wasn't the creature supposedly susceptible to meek, nubile virgins?

Sasuke deviated from the plan, engaged the poor tortoise in combat, and eventually needed to use the power of his curse seal. Of course, the poor animal would have gone on a panicked rampage. It was a shrewd powerful monster, but it still felt trapped and terrified--what manner of creature wouldn't try to run away from the miasmic aura of the level-three curse seal? Not to mention, the reptile's supposedly helpless victim turned into a screeching, PMSing, unbelievably furious harpy. Naruto, who apparently didn't like the plan from the start, decided to join in at that point.

Men!

(Now listen to her. She was starting to sound like Ino! Ugh. But it was such a muggy day today, too. High noon in mid-June had no business to be that hot and humid--not in that part of the world. Which probably explained why the tortoise was cranky from the start. They probably roused it from its estivation.)

Everyone attributed (i.e. blamed) the negative outcome of the mission on the biased viewpoint cultivated by her training as a mednin, including the ingrate brooding in one of the bunks in her office, following her movements with hooded eyes. She had given him what she had dubbed her "emergency" drugs in the field, and had gotten the team to safety as quickly as possible. Now, they were at the secure underground quarters of the mednins, in shishou's study quarters to be exact. It housed Tsunade-sama's immediate apprentices' bunks, a place where Sakura or Shizune-san could sleep in when necessary.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

She chopped through the bones with deliberate ferocity, washed the beef under running water, and mashed them into the marinade so vigorously her mixing bowl got deformed (which only added to her stress. These days, her mixing bowls came and went to quickly for her peace of mind.) She set it aside for later, deciding she didn't want to risk cooking what she had meant to be her special steak dinner for the month, what with her temper still as volatile as it was.

She flashed a brief glare to his direction. He probably did it out of pride, she thought grimly. He probably couldn't handle the fact that it was Haruno Sakura at the crux of the battle plan, that it was her move, her time. He wasn't used to being relegated to the peripheries of a fi--aah, but that was her anger still talking. Grudgingly, she admitted that it was more likely that she had overlooked some factor in the scenario that jacked up his near-instinctive paranoia, which cause him to instinctively (or so he claimed so often he didn't even have to say it anymore) decide the whole team _needed_ to be saved and went off with his unnecessary heroics. Naruto was no help when she tried to talk to the Uchiha. Naruto enjoyed the fight, saying nobody got hurt anyway, and surmised with satisfaction that the tortoise would probably stay in hiding for decades because of this. He was probably right, but still. The mission was to eliminate the monster. Technically, it remained a failed mission and they were paid the rate for one. (Actually, it was downgraded to a B level so they were all paid even less.)

Way too much trouble for what it's worth. . .

She started. She had turned with another disgruntled grunt and had suddenly came face to face with his pale, grayish visage, with his dark eyes boring into hers.

"What are you doing, Sasuke-kun?" she asked in her patented mednin tone. "What part of, 'bedrest' can't you understand?"

"You cook here?" he asked in a gravelly voice.

It wasn't what she expected him to say--heck, she was well prepared to start a fistfight at that point. "This area is clean," she said defensively, as she washed her hands vigorously before turning to washing her vegetables. "It doubles as my living space, so I usually don't treat patients or perform experiments here, and you're obviously an exception. . . Besides, mednins have to eat, too. And if you're going to be confined here indefinitely, I suppose I'm required to give you some form of sustenance and--so what if I like boiled cabbages? Tomatoes are equally laughable to hanker for. I mean, what are you, chronically pregnant?"

"Just say what you really want to say," came the quiet interruption. "Say it to my face and get it over with."

"Who said I wanted to say anything to you?"

He grunted ungraciously. "This is annoying."

That word alone would have reduced her to the throes of depression years ago. Now, it merely reignited her simmering rage.

"And you think you acting as if nothing happened is any less so?" she asked, attempting to infuse her voice with a calm she wasn't feeling. It didn't work; her greens were now mush in her fists.

"Considering the circumstances, I thought I deserved a thank you."

"Since when did you start admitting you do deserve some things?" she retorted, foregoing her attempts at mature civility. It was a blow under the belt, but she couldn't help it. "You don't have to martyr yourself for my sake, thank you very much. Are you happy now?"

"Not at the slightest. What happened out there?"

"It's called fucking up," she said sweetly. "Now, if you don't mind, I would like you to remove your face from my general vicinity, because I'm really tempted to smash my fist into it."

He stepped up nearer her, obviously taunting. This distracted her from her anger for a few moments, concern fleeting but gripping at her throat, claw-like. His flesh was burning, emanating heat like a furnace. He was dangerously feverish, probably from the drugs he's been receiving, who knew? She'd have to get his temperature under control.

"You really should go back to bed," she said, more subdued. "I mean it."

"Won't you at least own up to your recklessness?"

"_My_ recklessness?" was all she managed to bite out, the direction of her thoughts once again effectively derailed.

His criticism was double-edged. First, he was criticizing her action plan to draw the tortoise to herself in the close quarters she devised. Second, she was criticizing the fact she went for him, instead of chasing after the monster. In other words, he acted on some belief she needed his protection. Perhaps, it was just his usual paranoia acting up, but it also meant he didn't regard her with the same respect or confidence her other colleagues did. For example, if it were Naruto there, standing as bait, would he have interfered?

Eighteen years old and she was apparently still the same Haruno Sakura: weak and troublesome, a burden.

She gritted her teeth in an effort to calm down.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "If you're that tempted, just do it."

She really did mean to head-butt him, but somehow missed. She was stunned silent by her mistake. Sasuke was the one who broke the silence after a while, seemingly unaffected by the accident.

"I was bracing for your favorite right hook," he informed her as-matter-of-factly.

"You shifted!" she accused, horrified.

"So did the tortoise," he said, still as if commenting on the weather. Uchiha Sasuke never commented on the weather, unless it had certain ramifications on an ongoing mission.

She was going to miss and would have gotten captured, he was saying. Well, did he actually think she neglected to calculate that possibility into her plan? She supposed it simply bore down to him not trusting her. There really was no point in arguing over it, since he was so stubbornly set at making her admit she was less then proficient yet again.

"You have a cracked lip," he said, drawing her hand away from her mouth.

Well, if he would just move away and stop stealing all the available oxygen she would have been able to think up a retort in a timely manner. At any rate, she got distracted again, for his eyes were blacker than usual--most of the time she could still call them a very dark brown, a brown tinged with just enough scarlet to match the rich damp loam that grew the giant sentinels of Konohagakure no Sato--but then his pupils were dilated into virtually holes, so cavernous she fancied her voice echoing in them, had she relinquished as much as a squeak. And there was something very important about this piece of assessment, but she couldn't remember what it was. She was occupied at the moment, or would be, semantics and just a little bit of innuendo notwithstanding.

And who would be contented with just _one_, anyway?

It didn't even count as one, that pathetic peck on a cheek. (His face was surprisingly soft, albeit a bit too prickly for her taste. But again, who's complaining?)

She kissed him in the mouth this time.

Irrationally, she thought--when she could think again--that his fever must be catching, for she felt her face burn hot, his heat conducted by his lips, spreading down her neck and billowing flames deep in her belly and down to her toes. But then, any newbie apprentice _knew_ that fever was a symptom, not some contagion to be passed around like cooties.

_Cooties!_ Inner Sakura crowed. _I finally get cooties!_

"You should keep hydrated," Sasuke said after, still eerily unruffled.

It was an advise she habitually forced on everyone, friends and incidentally-met strangers alike. (She had to admit, she could get a little pushy when it came to health issues.) She babbled some excuse in response, something about the exorbitant prices of bottled water in a desert country.

He lifted her chin and, as if to cement in place the point he was making, quickly licked her lips, like one would do when sealing an envelope. Her mind blanked, but the rest of her reaction did not get a chance to play out, not when he decided to take the rest of her mouth in his.

(In retrospect, maybe he was right. Maybe she was indeed dehydrated. Or low on salt in her blood. Or something. It didn't even occur to her how absolutely bizarre it was to have Uchiha Sasuke taking her mouth in his. Actually, there probably wasn't much occurring in her brain that really counted as higher functioning at that point, so she wouldn't have been able to self-diagnose.)

It was. . . nice. She supposed, it was. It was awkward, too. He kept her at a certain distance from him, kept her in place with a pincer-like grip to her shoulder, close enough to feel the alarming heat emanating from his body, close enough for her chest to brush against his with every breath she managed to take. Her neck was craned at an odd angle, as she docilely followed his steady, almost wary, exploration. And there was this annoying little crick starting to form in her spine. . .

Easily remedied.

Concern speedily replaced the vague triumph she felt upon overthrowing his hold on her. The arms she threw about his neck twitched reflexively on contact, shying from the hotness of his skin. The searing of his torso against her was barely bearable, his muscles tensed and set, as if in preparation for battle. He was uncannily bone-dry to touch, his quietly-muscled back an arid desert landscape, and she could feel his heart thundering in a frenzy through his thin undershirt--or was that hers?

In her surprise, she was able to steal a tiny smidgen of clarity because of that very heat.

_What happened to trying to control his temperature_, she mentally yelped in panic.

"Sasuke--" she managed, successfully ripping her face from his.

He ignored her--

_ohellyesss_

--and merely latched on somewhere lower, some part that was either neck or chin or jaw. She felt him in too many places to definitively tell, really. The hands she had earlier shrugged off had found better places to grip, places evidently designed to give him places to hold on to. Not that she could pinpoint a given place at a given time, only one or the other. She could say, "today is Thursday, late afternoon, Konohagakure no sato," or cloudily, "his right hand is on my left hip and his left hand is where it shouldn't be. . . oh, oh, but his face _really_ shouldn't be where it is right now, and I don't think I give a flying f--" but not both. And there something about clothsacks and cats drowning, too. She's forgotten.

She figured, through some strange disjointed deduction, that it would probably be safer if she had some control over where his lips wandered, so she sought him, melded hers to his, and tangled her fingers through his hair, clinging stubbornly, and allowed herself to be kneaded into a blissful obliviousness that went perfectly well with the heat and the need and the oh-so whatever the hell he was doing.

But the nagging at the back of her mind remained, the need to stop.

Why?

_Your uniform is in tatters, remember?_ She only had time to throw on an outer tunic she found lying about her cubicle next door. Otherwise, she would have been traipsing about half-naked. Or rather, she would be soon, because his free hand was fumbling with buttons now and she couldn't even begin to think what the hell happened to her brassiere, god, what dexterity. . .

(while the other still kneaded her, molded her into a boneless mass of sensations and pulsations that quivered and sang and waxed and waned and)

_No no no no no no no!_

That was a reason to stop.

_For crying out loud! He's sooner kiss you into __a seizure, before you do him, you lump of coal_--

Seizures. Seizure.

Febrile seizure.

_That_ was one reason to stop.

Of course, that wasn't the only thing that could happen. Sasuke was unwell. Sasuke was reacting to one or more of the drugs he had been receiving the last few hours. His temperature was deadly high. His breathing was fast and shallow. His heart was wild, running at a breakneck speed and would soon beat itself out of. Worst of all--

He just wasn't acting himself.

Sakura closed her eyes, loosened her grip on him, and gently pushed him away. But then this was the Uchiha Sasuke. He was stubborn, tenacious, and relentless, so he ended up receiving the favored right hook he had been anticipating just minutes (what? not years?) earlier.

Five seconds later, Uchiha Sasuke became unresponsive and went into respiratory arrest, as his body finally gave way to the cumulative effects of the trial-stage chemicals he had received at 1318 hours in the plains of Armadillo country, after an aborted mission in the canyons of Harfang. Haruno Sakura was able to render emergent treatment, her call for help immediately answered by her colleagues. Upon resuscitation, Sasuke was found to be delirious and continued to be so for the following day. He was discharged from the mednin quarters one week later, never having to go to Konoha Hospital the entire time.

Now, that strange encounter between her and her old teammate happened more than three years ago. Until now, she couldn't figure out exactly what had transpired then, never really pinpointed which of the drugs she had used on her friend would cause such a change in his personality. (And she was far too embarrassed to share the experience with either of the two mednins' senior to her to be able to gather a second opinion.) Instead, she kept it a secret, the little "mental aberration," as she referred to it sometimes. At any rate, Sakura had learned two important things from that perplexing event:

One, the risks of using pink dust on a person clearly outweighed any benefit whatsoever.

Two, a delirious person could really hurt you.

17:16 0529080

* * *

AN: When the word count shows some ridiculous number like 9000, it only shows how devoid this fic of streamlining, as some of the readers have pointed out. (sweatdrops) This chapter feels so dry, I think it can be deadly. I swear all that has bearing on the er, plot.

Anyway, I had some comments but I can't remember them right now. Thanks for reading, everyone, and thanks for the comments. They serve as fodder. (kowtows)

Next chapter: Neji finally finds some of the documents he's been hunting for, Sakura comes clean, and Naruto is still. . . baffled.

AN (06/26/2008): I think there's been some confusion about the time line in this chapter. I added a paragraph to the last segment, (the Sakura limited-third POV one), just to clear up the time line. I think it's confusing, too, so just to clear that up: the last part is Sakura remembering something that happened to her three years ago, when she was 18. At this point in the fic, it is the second week of November. Sasuke & Sakura are 21. Naruto turned 21 in Chapter 5. Hinata should be 20 still, and will turn 21 in December. Hope that clears up stuff.


	19. Chapter 18: Confrontations with Self

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Kishimoto Masashi, etc. Only borrowing the series and characters for entertainment. No monetary gain.

**Chapter 18: Confrontations with Self, Others**

Konohagakure no Sato was conveniently tucked in a sprawling valley that was overrun by gigantic trees that were at least hundreds, if not thousands, of years old. Most of its population was centered around the dense village, but there were naturally a few citizens who preferred to live in more private circumstances, avoiding the hustle and bustle that ultimately originated from the Hokage's office. Other than the larger, more extensive estates of older, more affluent families, there were also a few people, most of whom had retired from the stressful life of ninja, who opted to live in the outskirts of town, like hermits. They lived unobtrusively in easily sustainable homes, carefully hidden from the general populace's attention.

The hut of old Oli Mau was one of such private domiciles. It was not so much as invisible as unappealing; it sat precariously at the side of a mountain face, as if ready to boot out its inhabitants to a grim death. (And not just any mountain face-it was in an as yet unoccupied area of the Hokage monument.) Call it a ledge, an outcropping, it was nothing more than a slab of stone jutting out from the sharp, near-vertical slope that even plants avoided. It made the house look eternally wind-blown, which in turn explained the house's running reputation as the most haunted place in Konoha.

It was four walls and a roof, easily built, easily destroyed—perhaps, perhaps not. It didn't seem so on casual observation, but it was all made of wood. The wood was what made the room seem as ageless and immutable as the rock it was built upon (or rather, the rock the ledge was connected to). The living space, and it was all it was for all intents and purpose, was tiny but organized. The floor was divided into two. One side was packed dirt, while the other was covered with woven, dried grass. Against one corner were a blanket and a pillow. On another corner was a chest of simple and well-worn clothes, along with an assortment of knickknacks that spoke of a long, involved life. A sack of flour, a slab of cured meat, a jar of water, a stack of firewood. . . all sat on a third corner. On the fourth was a writing desk.

Let it never be said that Hyuuga Neji was anything less than attentive to his dead relatives and comrades. Tradition dictated he follow a ceremonial cult of death, and he went through the motions without fail. Every day, he visited his parents' altar, lit a stick of incense or two, and said a short prayer. It did not, however, imply that he had any particular belief about life after death. Neji had a rather pragmatic view of things: any semblance of existence after death was something to be discovered once dead.

In spite of himself, he had considerable misgivings about being where he was, and it was all due to the influence of a certain somebody's vague insinuations. The man's vivacious pontificating was at its most convoluted today, so much that Neji entertained the notion that Lee was actually doing it on purpose, that his loquacious teammate was actually _trying_ to irritate him into a seizure.

Neji was pretty damn close to one.

It wasn't blind trust that prompted him to do Rock Lee's bidding. More than ten years of working with the man, had better equipped Neji to deal with the taijutsu specialist's idiosyncrasies. At face value, Rock Lee's ideas were often so out there-and just outright campy-that normal people found it easier to laugh him off instead of try to understand him. Neji, however, was not "normal," (and didn't really have the capacity to laugh things off.) He learned that Rock Lee's brand of reasoning often made sense with merely a slight readjustment of perspective, the same way an Academy student might realign the lens of an out-of-focus microscope till it clicked in place.

This time, Neji couldn't summon enough patience to ruminate on such things. He simply avoided the added aggravation of rationalizing Lee's behavior, knowing he might regret it if he succumbed to the anger, and simply brought with him what he was told to bring.

A flask of spring water was tied to his belt. A handful of cold ashes, swept from the family altar last night was inside a folded white envelope, sealed with watered-down rice. Splinters from the foundation of the ancient house of Hyuuga were nestled in the current matriarch's—he had to settle with Hinata-sama's—handkerchief and tucked carefully within the folds of his obi. He even came in the prescribed formal yukata he wore the last O-bon festival and a pair of mourning gi he hadn't worn since he was seventeen. Last but not least, he brought Hanabi's ceremonial dagger, only one of the symbols that testified to the Branch house's servitude.

Neji sat on the dirt-floor part of the room, as the tatami mats were fraying, prone to fire, and a little too fragrant to get used to. He began.

"Earth."

Using himself as the center, he carved a circle on the packed earth with the dagger. The blade, he stuck in front him, hilt-deep.

"Fire."

He lit two candles. The one of tallow sputtered as soon as the flame licked its wick, coughing out a thick coil of black smoke and an unpleasant smell. The one of soy burned clear and strong. Each went inside the circle, one behind him, the other in front.

"Water."

He poured the spring water onto a wooden bowl he picked up from the dirty kitchen outside and set it beside the pungent candle.

"Hearth."

He scattered the splinters to his right.

"Ashes."

He blew those to his left.

"Dust."

This was not dust at all. It was his own hair, efficiently snipped at the tips with the evidently razor-sharp dagger he drew from the soil. These he flicked in front him, an odd piece instantly singed by the stuttering tongue of fire, a sharp note to the general malodor.

"Blood."

He stopped short at blood, feeling the ridiculousness of it all as keenly as the tip of the dagger that nicked his finger. (He was just asking for an infection, wasn't he, inoculating his fingers with some dead woman's bacteria.) He sucked on his bleeding finger instead, spat out the blood, and swallowed the oaths that rose to his mouth in lieu of incantations.

Lee was not very specific when he told his team mate to conduct a séance in the eccentric, former med-nin's house. A few well-chosen inquiries and the efficient research of a man who had practically lived days in the family library made Neji fairly versed on Hyuuga-style exorcism. Exorcisms and séances had a key difference, of course. The former supposedly drove away spirits, and from his old comrade's instructions, Neji was supposed to make contact with them.

It was all Neji could come up with on short notice. Besides, the deceased owner of the house had some Hyuuga blood in her; she was a third cousin, thrice removed, according to the clan records. She was the specialist the Hyuuga mednins consulted, when in need of more experienced advice. Hyuuga were far too dignified to positively respond to an ejection, rejection, call it whatever.

Now, the above information, about both this certain mednin's Hyuuga blood and role, was not public knowledge. It was the result of Tenten's investigation, and thus, the indirect result of the colossal snit Neji had been unable to totally expunge from his system since midnight.

Not wishing to be known thereafter as an arsonist and pyromaniac, Neji managed to resist kicking the now guttering candle in front of him. The wooden bowl was not so lucky, hurling against the far wall with deadly force. The sturdy container survived unscathed, but the wall earned a jagged hole that exposed a hollowing in the thick slab of hardwood. Underneath it was a chest of mementos. And underneath that chest was a crack on the rock itself. In that crack was lodged a wooden box that wasn't likely to contain jewelry.

Neji began to feel a little more forgiving towards Lee's decidedly cryptic instructions as he unearthed Oli Mau's clandestine little hope box. The assortment of scrolls inside, ranging from crisp like new to yellowing and aged, were obviously what he was meant to find here—very delicate information the obscure mednin had accumulated over her long life.

The result of Tenten's dangerous investigation was in his hands. However, it was evident that somebody, who had been there before him, had taken the choicer cuts of the meat. Whether that person simply had more skills in fraternizing with ghosts, he wasn't sure, but he meant to find out who it was and what exactly about the obscure Oli Mau was interesting enough to make that someone break the same rules he just did.

Another annoying thing about his excursion was this: despite Neji's exacting attempts to not decimate the rancid hovel in his profound irritation, the ledge decided to give way just as he stepped off it. It was bound to happen, of course, the dictations of physics, geology, and all that. Nobody in the village would really be surprised to see it gone.

And see, Neji himself wasn't the slightest bit sorry over the loss of the Konoha landmark.

###

Making Hyuuga Hinata squirm used to be easy. Now, her default reaction to nearly everything unpleasant, uncomfortable, or embarrassing was to freeze in place, which wasn't nearly as interesting. This was the talent that earned the rather color-bleached heiress her reputation as an icy, emotionless woman. Truth be told, she was keeping as quiet as a mouse in hopes she would not be noticed, and perhaps, it worked. Not once did any of the three mednin apprentices look to her direction; they seemed to find the squeaky tiled floor far too riveting to look elsewhere.

Haruno Sakura once said that everything about her was pretty much average, excepting the width of her forehead. Hinata disagreed because she thought the other girl could be quite beautiful when she made the effort, and she knew Sakura was quite known for her smarts. Her unique coloring, as well as her petite size, made her seem delicate, particularly nowadays, as she often dwelt in a solemn, academic mind frame. Ironically, it belied the fact she was known for her monstrous strength as much as her skills as mednin. Hinata had not really seen her in action, not in years, but for sure, Sakura had changed as much as the Hyuuga girl had.

. . . It was still disconcerting for Hinata. To see the mednin with arms akimbo, screeching at her students about first investigating in their local neighborhood before gallivanting off to exotic places, was a surreal experience. "'Coz this ain't the effect of some outlandish blood limit jutsu from the other side of the world," she barked with an accompanying sneer that would have put Neji-nii to shame. "I'll tell you what this is, one word: SEPSIS!" And what the hell were they thinking, she had all but screamed. They were supposed to be ninjas! First day as genins, they were supposed to know to look underneath the underneath, not randomly pick the first convenient diagnosis that crossed their way. She kicked the door shut after a firm warning to not bother her unless for an emergency.

As soon as the door closed, Sakura immediately shifted gears. Hinata had to scramble to keep up, but she realized quickly that the mednin was talking to her now, for the tenor of Sakura's voice had changed to her usual amiable one. "I know this isn't the most appropriate place to do this," she said. "But see, in classic Haruno-style escapism, I've taken too much on my plate, and I don't really have much free time aside from the occasional nap and lunch break."

The pink-haired woman removed her white lab coat, paused to think, and seemed to decide on putting it back on unbuttoned. She flopped onto the empty chair in front of Hinata, instead of behind Shizune's desk.

"Hinata-chan," she said after taking a deep breath. "Let's break up."

Hinata goggled at her earnest green eyes, warmth rushing furiously to her cheeks. In turn, Sakura stared back at her stupidly in the stymied silence, mirroring the confused expression on the other's face.

"Wait," she backtracked abruptly. "What?"

"S-sakura-san," Hinata stammered. "I don't think you mean what you meant exactly—"

"Right." The mednin threw an arm out in empathic protest. "That-that came out wrong," she squeaked, her eyes squished shut in mortification. "Let me rephrase."

"Please," was the equally embarrassed response. Hinata nervously smoothed a crease on her plain blue skirt as she waited for the other to regroup.

"Okay," Sakura tried again. "Okay. . . I don't think we should be Clique buddies anymore."

There was a silence as this sunk in.

I don't understand, Hinata wanted to say.

But then the mednin rephrased it a third time. It came out a little bluntly, but there was no misconstruing what she said.

"I don't want to be Clique buddies anymore."

Sakura-san didn't want to be Clique buddies anymore? Hinata echoed. But they were getting along so well! It didn't seem like Sakura disliked it. It didn't seem like Hinata was the only one finding comfort in their company, the only one happy. . .

Finally, Hinata did speak, "I am so sorry, Sakura-san."

"Oh yeah?" The mednin's face was unfathomable. She didn't release Hinata with an answering bow, merely looked on as the other girl continued speaking, still with her head lowered.

"I haven't been much of a Clique buddy. I'm just too fixated with a lot of things at home. I realize it's a lame excuse, but I will change and give more effort to being _there_, as Ino-san says we should."

"Hinata." Sakura grabbed the girl by the shoulder and straightened her. "Hinata, please. It's not you." Hinata did straighten-Sakura-san was too strong to resist. "Well, it is you, but it's not something you can help."

It's not something she can help? The words halted Hinata's self-recriminating thoughts. What was it then? Had she somehow given offense to the mednin, but whatever it was would not be addressed to her face because she was far too fragile for such a confrontation? This again. . . Hinata decided then that she had enough of euphemisms; she had a hunch on what it was about. "This is about Sasuke-san, isn't it?" she said more sharply than she intended. "Naruto-kun said—"

"Naruto really needs to mind his own damned business," came the hot response. "Listen, there's nothing between me and Sasuke. Absolutely nothing! It shouldn't matter to you what I feel or think, and I have no right to influence you in anyway whatsoever. Understand?"

"I don't believe you, Sakura-san," the younger girl was quieter, seemed to retreat into herself. "Why then do you want to stop being friends with me?"

"Did I say that?" the other cried almost despairingly. "That sounds so grade school! That's not what I meant to—"

"It equates to more or less that."

"I suppose so," Sakura unhappily agreed. "Let me explain why, at least."

Hinata didn't say anything so Sakura went on.

"I am this sort of woman," Sakura began, taking on the pedantic tones of a teacher. "When certain features, details, in my life become seemingly immutable, I become complacent and get into habits and expect things to not change. That just doesn't work on people. Now, I can learn virtually anything, if I put in enough effort, but I'd need time, space, and clinical detachment. And I want so much to be your friend that . . . that I know I will somehow find a way to use this friendship against you. I don't want it to ever reach that stage, so I am taking preventative actions."

"By cutting me out of the picture."

"No, cutting _me_ out! I don't want to hate you over something as childish as a habit. And well, I feel like such a hypocrite being friends with you but resenting you in secret. It's not fair to either of us, is it?"

"Why does it seem like you want my blessing to end this so badly?" Hinata asked, her words clipped. "Will you feel better if I tell you it's okay to hate me, Sakura-san, when you don't even think enough of me to frankly tell me why?"

Sakura inhaled sharply but did not have an answer ready.

"You've contradicted yourself so much. I don't know what to take away from this conversation, anymore."

"You can take away two things," Sakura said firmly, looking at her with a set jaw and clear eyes. "First, when you weigh your options, please subtract me and Naruto from the equation; we are variables that don't belong there. Second, please consider Uchiha Sasuke as fairly as you would any other suitor presented to you."

Hinata stared at her for what seemed like an hour, her white eyes unreadable and, in effect, quite fierce.

"You didn't have to tell me that; I have already resolved to take things seriously," she said finally. "But if it would assuage your guilt, I give you my word. I will do as you say. Just. . ."

"Just?"

"I won't snub you in the hallways or streets or anything like that."

Sakura nodded. "We have fictions to maintain after all," she agreed. "Thank you. Thank you, Hinata-chan."

"I'll take my leave."

"There's one last thing, please." She handed the dark-haired woman a basket of scrolls and a couple of jars. "And it's not like I won't help you anymore, so please, if there's anything you need at all . . ."

"If I may ask?"

"Ah, I got you those bath salts weeks ago, but I never got around to giving them to you. They're aromatherapy stuff that works quite well, actually, and the others are recipes you asked from before."

"Thank you, Sakura-san," Hinata said with a final, formal bow. "Goodbye."

"Y-yes. Take care of yourself."

In the end, it was the icy, emotionless woman of widespread fame that stepped out of Shizune's office.

###

Konoha Hospital's lobby was busy as usual, filled to brimming with both ninja and civilians. Few people lingered, of course. The civilians knew better than to clog up the entrance and were quick to attend to their business and then go home. Those that came to bring in injured comrades either retreated further into private waiting rooms or left for the mission offices for debriefing.

Neji ensconced himself at a wooden bench on one corner of the lobby, where he could easily see everybody walking out from the hospital's labyrinthine mess of halls. What kept him occupied while he waited for his charge, aside from the steady throbbing of his head, was the repeated recalling of a certain conversation he had very early today.

"Hullo," the odd greeting had come. Odd for its brevity, for brevity was not one of Rock Lee's outstanding characteristics, odd because Neji didn't expect him to be giving it in the first place.

"She sent you." Neji didn't say it as a question, but it was.

"I come of my own accord," Lee said, looking straight ahead into the opaque darkness of midnight. He was perched on their tree, which while not quite stately, was well above the Hyuuga's line of sight. "You could say I've taken it upon myself to champion another's cause."

"And this cause, I assume, has to do with her complicated love life." Neji automatically lapsed to their established code.

"Funny you say that," Lee said, his round eyes now focused, unflinching, on his old friend. "Even our dear mutual friend has trouble admitting as much."

Neji waited to hear more before reacting, knowing that his reaction would likely not be in kind, to give his old team mate the benefit of doubt.

"She insists she's fine," Lee continued. "I disagree, of course. She's may think she's okay right now, but what happens when she's finally fed up? She'll overflow, and violently, too, I'd reckon. That'll be a waste of energy and emotion, hating you even though she won't really mean it. Gai-sensei did always say one of the most intangible foes of blessed youth is the near constant miasma of negativity we encounter in our daily operations. We ignore it, take it for granted. . . Mayhap, propagate it ourselves?"

Neji's expression blanked, as if his earlier one wasn't stern enough already. Lee had broken the very code he invented. Granted, no passerby would have understood what they were talking about, anyway, (granted, there was no passerby out and about that time of night, period,) Neji was more unhappy about it being deliberate as opposed to an accidental lapse.

"As immensely as I respect you, comrade and rival, I find myself at a bind." Lee continued to speak frankly. "I wouldn't have imagined you capable of such unkindness till I saw it with my own eyes. Not that I ever doubted Tenten—her sense of honor remains acute and her esteem of self adequate—but I can't think you foolish enough to not know what you're doing. What do you think?"

"You do not want to know what I'm thinking," came the flat response.

"You're probably right." Lee sighed. "Then I'll take it as a chance to explain my harsh words."

"Do."

"It's not fair to her, you know."

"Skip to the explanations, please."

"As you wish." Lee remained quite serene, despite Neji's increasing glibness. "Both you and I know that Tenten will do anything you ask. She will not stand the dishonor of failing your challenge . . . even at the expense of others' regard of her character. Why, then, do you keep asking her to do not only the merely dangerous but also the simply impossible? The matter of Hinata-chan being pressured to marry Sasuke-san is very unfortunate, but it's hardly something you should use Tenten for—certainly not something for her to infiltrate the secrets of the village government itself at the risk of no less than a treason charge!

"In fact, I will say this only once. It is ungentlemanly of you to take advantage of her in this manner. I will turn my eyes away this instance, but I do solemnly swear on the honor of our esteemable teacher, that such another maltreatment of our mutual friend and I shall take it as a grave, personal offense!"

"Are you done?" Neji asked levelly, but not after a profound pause.

"Just a message from her, Neji-kun: she wants you to pay your respects to your kinswoman, Oli Mau. Should she be reticent, a séance might not be amiss. She might become too loquacious then, but if you pass her rambles through the right channel, her words might have merit."

They parted without Neji expressing his violent thoughts. There were many retorts that quickly formed in his mind while Rock Lee served his sermon. They were many cruel and swift returns that would be a potent slap to his comrade's idealistic face.

"And you," was what he wanted to say most. "Why then are you helping Tenten? Once Sasuke is safely married off to Hinata-sama, wouldn't that eliminate your greatest rival in love?"

Perhaps, it was the same immense regard that Rock Lee had spoken of that had stilled Neji's tongue. In the end, Neji had resisted a petty argument and lost a free arm for his trouble. Hinata-sama, fortuitously, had an engagement with her taciturn suitor at the crack of dawn, who Neji trusted now to protect his charge—at the very least, to keep his pride as the ninja of his caliber. Neji had taken this as opportunity to do as Tenten instructed and had hiked to Oli Mau's remote dwelling place.

Neji did not like what he saw there. Never mind reticent—Oli Mau had already given up her secrets to somebody else.

Was it Tenten's idea of a joke? Tenten of late had been becoming increasingly intractable. To Lee's point, she was free to refuse anything Neji had asked, and it wasn't as if she did any of it for free. It was an equally profitable arrangement they had kept for years. He was at her disposal now; she was free to ask him anything in return, as they had not established a price beforehand. If anything, he was at a disadvantage. Should Tenten ask him to, say, assassinate some high-ranking official for her, he would be obliged to do so. This was the nature of their years-old barter. For Lee to suggest that he had somehow entrapped Tenten into this. . .

Neji's furious thoughts were interrupted by the unusually brisk stride of his cousin. He looked outside to the skies out of habit, instead of the large clock that hung over the information desk: Hinata-sama was an hour early. Meetings with Haruno Sakura usually ended with his cousin skipping home like a giddy little school girl. In a less irritated frame of mind, Neji would simply file this away to the back of his mind. Today, however, he had to contend with a constant compulsion to vituperate people. He wouldn't go as far as blaming the failed reconnaissance mission this morning, but that was a conscious choice so as to not end up killing a certain green-garbed jounin who gave him compromised data.

The Hyuuga genius has been told as a child that his migraines were genetic and were triggered by his use of the Byakkugan. He was dead certain that wasn't the case today.

"You're ahead of schedule," he said, unnecessarily stating the obvious, another thing he didn't usually do. "Well?"

"Neji-nii," Hinata-sama said, uncharacteristically curt. "If anything I'm doing is an inconvenience to you, will you tell me what to do to remedy the situation before you decide to cut ties with me?"

Her cousin merely looked at her, as if to say that was a given, even though he wasn't supposed to have such a freedom as tell the Hyuuga heiress what to do.

"I know you're not prone to overreacting," she continued. "But everybody else seems to be doing that."

Neji almost burst out laughing. Murder, he thought ironically, would be the ultimate overreaction and he had been so close to committing one.

"Anyway, we should take lunch now," Hinata-sama said, unusually decisive. "I have a meeting with the Hokage at one o'clock and another with Sasuke-san at two-thirty. We can visit the village library in the interim. Is that convenient for you, niisan?"

"You should have me carry your basket, Hinata-sama," he said sardonically. "Lest you stress your wrist."

Hinata acquiesced, absently depositing the basket on the bench he was sitting on. "Bath salts, baking recipes, and a batch of freshly-made snickerdoodles," she reported automatically. "Fairly benign items."

Baking recipes handwritten in parchment? Neji decided to be very direct at this juncture. "Should I be concerned, Hinata-sama?"

"Hm?"

"Regarding Sakura-san."

"Sakura-san?" she echoed, rather inattentively. "What about her? I won't be meeting her again. It's that simple."

Neji decided he needed to be even more direct. "Is she a threat to your safety?"

"Threat?" Hinata blinked, as if returning to her senses. "To my safety? Of course not!" She paused. ". . . she seemed convince she could be?"

"You doubt her capacity?"

"Yes, but then, she didn't explain herself in depth enough for me to understand what the nature of the problem between us is." Hinata-sama's brow furrowed; she was more disconcerted now, rather than affronted. "It feels like even she is trying to protect me."

"I doubt it."

"Do you suspect even her, niisan?" Hinata asked, voice hitching slightly with the emotions she barely managed to keep at bay.

"As Hanabi-sama had said, the problem lies with not suspecting anybody at all." Neji said, as he looked through Sakura's gift basket. "May I?" He was referring to the scrolls.

"Of course."

Neji unfurled one of the scrolls to quickly scan its contents. While he was not prone to melodramatic declarations either, it did suspiciously like feel his heart had lurched to a full stop. Hinata-sama, of course, had not bothered to look through the contents and therefore had no idea what the hell she had just so casually carried in her innocuous little basket. . . or the trouble she would have landed with the ANBU, should they have been exposed.

The Hyuuga genius calmly rolled the document and neatly returned it to where it was lodged between two jars. "Hinata-sama," he said. "If I may ask a boon?"

"Yes, Neji-nii."

"This." He held up the basket.

"...well." She looked like—how did Tenten say it—a puppy kicked in the face. "I s-suppose. But the snickerdoodles a-and the bath salts and call it sentimental but—"

"I'll return them once I get what I need from the scrolls."

"Oh. Oh, I see. That's fine then." Did it even occur to her to question why he needed to borrow the entire thing?

And because he _was_ accused of having little sensitivity to women's needs... "Lunch at the Crossings," he suggested.

"Huh?"

"The Uchiha will want to have tea when you meet later. A light meal now should tide you over till then."

His charge merely nodded and followed him wordlessly.

###

He'd be the first to admit he wasn't an introspective sort of character. The whole brooding business was well-covered by one Uchiha Sasuke, while the long internal conversation thing was mastered by one Haruno Sakura and her multitude of inner aspects. No, Uzumaki Naruto was the go-getter, jump-head-long, it'll-turn-out-well-believe-it sort of guy. Age and experience may have tempered these qualities over time, but it was still not in his nature to wallow in prolonged self-reflection or self flagellation. He did not indulge in repeated diatribes on how unacceptable certain situations were without quickly—sometimes, a tad prematurely—deciding on a course of action to rectify it.

He was restless; often, he found his eyes training the horizon, the wanderlust roiling like hunger in his belly. Where to next was the constant question, one that remained unanswered. While in the Academy, his goal had been to become ninja. While he was genin, his goal had been to become chuunin. For the longest time afterwards, his goals became less simple, much baser, than rank and title, but when things returned to normal and prosaic, his goal became jounin. What now, after jounin?

There wasn't a lack of things to do, and he had always generally known what he wanted: make a mark, be accepted, somehow _move_ the world for the better. It wasn't as simple as wanting it, of course. He knew he had to learn more and do more. He needed a direction to where his hard work wasn't just equivalent to money.

It did sound kinda stupid when you think about it. "I want to change the world." Change the world to what? The world just shuffled along, trying its best not to fall apart. There were lots of crappy things happening out there; how many of those issues could he even touch—much less change—realistically speaking? People could only take care of their own problems, and not everyone did so effectively. A person could only do their job properly, make sure things around them get done the right way. Beyond that. . . Short of becoming a dictator, how would you make people do what is right? And even if there was some way to do that, how could he be sure what he thought the right course of action was really the right one?

Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Good intentions don't always turn out well. Some actions do more harm than good.

_Only time will tell._

Naruto hissed to himself in irritation. What the hell was he doing repeating all those hollow lines, regurgitating those notions over and over to himself? It wasn't like him to flounder in a vat of possibilities. It didn't solve anything and it just made him lose track of his goals.

_Stop thinking._

He had spent the earlier part of the day shadowing hunter nins. According to the pompous little guy who worked in that Resource Efficacy committee or whatever, his profile fitted the requirements for a number of jounin and ANBU specializations. One of those he'd recommend, said the guy who was always sniffling, was becoming hunter nin. See, Naruto ironically had a bit of experience there, courtesy of a certain old team mate. Even he was forced to admit it: if that whole Sasuke search wasn't dedication to the cause of hunting down rogue nins, he didn't know what was.

So earlier that day was spent trailing one of the hunter nins, whom he wasn't allowed to name because hunter nins weren't allowed to use names while in the hunter nin capacity. Naruto dubbed him the Garlic Guy for an obvious reason. (Which begged the question: shouldn't they be un-smell-able, as well as invisible?) Garlic Guy said it was a pretty routine day, because there wasn't really anybody beyond the spattering of outstanding S-class high risk items in the Konoha Bingo list, and there was no way he was bringing somebody as loud as Naruto to an S-class hunt because it was too high-risk. The only thing they did was go up the Hokage Monument after old Oli Mau's house fell off its perch. Nobody was really surprised about it, but somebody had to make sure there was no foul play involved. Hyuuga Neji was already there and he didn't find anything. It was just bad architecture, they all agreed, even though Naruto wasn't really sure what Neji was doing there. (Did the guy even sleep?) Well, it wasn't really bad architecture, Naruto had clarified with a yawn. More like old, used-to-be-good, gone-bad architecture.

_Man, you really need to get your shit together._

At any rate, hunter nin was one career option available. While today was fairly uneventful, the usual hunter nin routine wasn't so . . . boring. A pointed comment from Garlic Guy got Naruto thinking, however. Judging from what happened with Sasuke (that he's alive and usually kicking), Naruto'd probably not be the best person to task with hunting down and exterminating missing nins. He did have a tendency to question authority and he sometimes had trouble keeping his mouth shut and hunter nins have fairly rigid rules to avoid prickly dilemmas on moral issues, etc. With hunter nins, when it came to deciding who to get rid of, things were fairly cut and dry.

Lunch became three-ish instead of noon, because Garlic Guy decided to go back up the mountain to nose some more around Oli Mau's tiny property, evidently not satisfied with Neji's report. They slowly combed the mountain side, following the path of the house as it fell and broke to pieces. It was pretty slow going for a bit, and Naruto started to space out until he tripped over scree, fell a few hundred feet, and nearly broke his neck. That pretty much ended their day trip.

Now, Hunter-nins didn't typically go through the mission assignment routines. Their missions were kept even more hush-hush than usual and details given were minimal and at a need-to-know basis. They reported directly to the Jounin Commander, who probably wielded something equal to the collective authority of the village council itself. Like every other ninja specialty, they had a designated area where some of them could be found for official stuff. Hunter-nins didn't bother with the typical shabby office in some out of the way building in the village center. No, they lurked in the basements, formerly occupied by Orochimaru's nasty experiments—or so went the popular belief. Naruto didn't get to look at their lair, as he was rather bluntly dismissed when Garlic Guy announced he had a scheduled meeting with his team in fifteen minutes. He didn't say when he and Naruto were to regroup, if at all.

(Really, was it his fault he just wasn't interested in finding out who was snooping around Oli Mau's old house? It was probably one of the genins, some Shikamaru-level genius they haven't discovered yet, messing around.)

So, as early as four in the afternoon, Naruto found himself with nothing to do. While having nothing to do wasn't usually a problem (a rare treat, nowadays), he just didn't feel right about bumming around today. He was feeling unsettled, and being the simple person that he was, he had his routines when he felt that way.

As a child, he'd have thought up a prank, something stupid and eye-catching that would send half the village pounding after his rear end in outrage. (There was something really satisfying about outrunning a bunch of furiously huffing adults, see.) Once he made friends, he usually looked for or was found by one them before he managed to do something idiotic that as a teenager would have probably landed him in jail. Nowadays, he wandered the village on foot, absently watching people and meandering about the narrow convoluted side streets of central Konoha. When he walked long enough without running into somebody he knew, he often found himself drifting to the Ninja Academy. He supposed, in a rare flash of insight, that he usually ended up there because he associated the place with Iruka-sensei. And while he didn't have a child's inclination to run to a parent when hurt, being in the school grounds was comforting.  
Because it wasn't that late yet, even though most of the classes have been dismissed, a lot of children still loitered about the academy. The older kids lingered to fool around with their friends, but most of the younger ones stayed because their parents were probably not home yet. An off-duty chuunin or jounin usually took this role of after-school counselor/baby-sitter. Today, it seemed, there wasn't one but two of them, both jounin, both quite elite, and both people Naruto didn't necessarily want to run into.  
Normally, people who are trying to avoid certain people would just leave quietly if they happen to see the person they're avoiding before the other person sees them. Not that Naruto was avoiding anybody—let's make that clear. See, there was powerful force that kept him locked in place, peering like a peeping tom from a stiff, rather thorny bush near the playground. It was the most curious thing he had ever seen, a scene that a number of people had already told him about. He didn't believe them, and he wasn't sure he believed what he seeing either.

Hinata was laughing. Her pale cheeks were touched by red and her breast heaved rapidly as she caught her breath. Her laughter made her eyes crinkle enough to make the white seem slivers of silver and the triumph that shaped her smile lacked her habitual shyness. She had paused the playful sparring with the energetic six-year-olds to converse with her companion, their dark heads drifting apart after the quick exchange that tickled her funny bone.

Sasuke was smirking. His shoulders were contracted in subdued hilarity and his head thrown back in a casual gesture Naruto himself rarely saw. Not that the scary Uchiha monster was playing with the toddlers. His purpose there seemed confined to making sardonic commentary on the kids' attempts looking tough and badass "jounises." (Whenever Naruto horsed around liked that when they were younger, Sasuke had either ignored him or kicked his face in. Why the blatant double standard?)

The vague unsettledness that had brought him to school curdled into a ball, a rock that didn't as much as sink as bloat his gut. It pushed his belated lunch to the center of his chest, the familiar burn spreading up his throat. The rage from days ago, misplaced, as Sakura-chan said, as Iruka-sensei said, he know realized, was no longer there. A strange bemusement replaced it, one that prevented him from simply slinking away.

Obviously, Hinata didn't need to be rescued. Like Iruka-sensei had said, maybe he really was putting words in people's mouths, jumping to conclusions before finding out the real story. Sasuke wasn't bad for Hinata—they were both laughing, for crying out loud! It was something even he couldn't make Sasuke do. And it looked like that for once, for once, somebody was listening to Hinata the way people should be listening to her.  
Naruto had to admit it; he did have something of a hero complex. See, he had always thought there was something special with his friendship with Hinata. It was like knowing where the teacher hid the candy basket, knowing where the fish liked to sun themselves during hot, lazy afternoons in that fish pond behind his apartment building. It was a delightful little secret that made him feel good about himself.

And maybe that was him just being full of it. Acting like he knew what was best for Hinata-chan, that he knew her better than most people. . . He really should mind his own business.

As for Sakura-chan, maybe he was as wrong about her and Sasuke as he was about Hinata. Sakura-chan didn't need to be unhappy about this. She was strong, and she had said so herself. He could make her happy, couldn't he?  
He could make her laugh like that, too.

###

The amount of paper in Hinata-sama's basket of goods was deceptively small at first look. There was any number of loose sheets rolled within each of the scrolls, each kept together with a rubber band. The first few pages were innocuous enough, detailing various recipes in a neat, meticulous hand. It was only after the cinnamon apple tart that the writings became suspicious.

The words became tighter, more precise, still legible but now rushed. It was a copy of a progress note written during Hinata-sama's brief stay in Konoha Hospital last month, following the events in Marima. It detailed the same information Tenten had previously given him—that Hinata-sama was poisoned during her fight with the Serrators and that poison caused a life-threatening dysrrhythmia because it subverted Hinata-sama's natural escape rhythms. (There was a penciled note on the margin that explained that Hinata-sama ordinarily did go into abnormal heart rhythms, caused by something congenital, perhaps, but that her body had long developed ways to get around the problem when it needed to. The poison crippled that compensatory system and this was what nearly killed the Hyuuga heiress.) The note went on to mention briefly that Hinata-sama had a history of extensive multi-system failure following a near-complete chakra circuitry shutdown more than eight years ago before going through a physical examination of the heiress.

The scroll broke off to more recipes until it came to a thick wad of paper that had evidently gotten wet at some point. The document was no longer in Haruno Sakura's steady hand; this was evident despite the fuzzy ink. She wouldn't have been seeing patients at that point, for this was written before Sakura even thought of becoming mednin. This was from their first chuunin exam, after a fight in an elimination round that had gotten out of control in more ways than one. It detailed the very injuries Neji himself had inflicted on his cousin. The damage dealt by the Jyukenho rarely, if ever, reversed by themselves. The major chakra plexi had to be reinstated first before the body became even capable of starting the healing process. Whoever had written the note had a fair knowledge of the nature of the Jyukenho, and was likely to be a Hyuuga him/herself. It was almost a disclosure-a hand-off, the penciled words on top of the last page ended with a question mark-and it further detailed the medical team's difficulty in controlling Hinata-sama's heart rhythm, that as devastating as the damage Neji had caused, there were other reasons why they couldn't stabilize Hinata-sama. She must have had a history of a cardiac disorder thought to be idiopathic (of no known cause, the definition was lightly penciled over the word) that prevented her cardiovascular system from responding to certain stressors the way any normal person's would have.

The notes broke off once more into recipes, now of full-course meals instead of mere desserts, and just as randomly, broke back into the unfamiliar medical jargon that Neji carefully read through. This time, the yellowing papers didn't appear to be official hospital documents. The handwriting was much harder to read now, for the person's hand was unsteady, a diminishing control of the finer movements of the hand. . . Oli Mau, perhaps?

A consult note, the penciled translation proclaimed on the first page. And then, a question followed it, halfway down: from when?

. . . _this idiopathic arrhythmia occurs more often than previously thought, though her father reports that these syncopal episodes have been decreasing in frequency the past three months. Diagnostic tests remain unremarkable. I agree with the house mednin's impression that the child's heart is anatomically fit. _

_I am becoming more inclined to believe that these episodes can indeed be traced to a dysfunction of the chakra gates. Some derangement has occurred or is occurring on the Anahata pathways; the Fifth gate is corrupted. _

_I myself am related to this child, a few times removed, and I am aware of the various restrictions the Main family lays upon the others to maintain their control on the clan. The patient, however, is the first-born child of the current heir-no curse seal should ever touch her. This is not the only remaining possibility, of course, but the alternative is even far less likely, for congenital defects of the Anahata chakra center usually kills the an infant within days of its birth. I am convinced that this is not only an acquired disorder, but that another has placed this upon this child. _

_Her father refuses further diagnostic exams and wishes to remove his daughter from the institution against medical advice._

The writer was clearly both an expert mednin and a Hyuuga. It was too much of a coincidence that Oli Mau fit exactly those two characteristics.

Neji was permitted himself a half-smile. He had his suspicions, but now he had a more solid basis in thinking that it was a certain person of their mutual acquaintance that had one-upped both Lee and Tenten. Despite her words of seeming surrender to Hinata-sama, it didn't seem like Haruno Sakura was ready for that yet. Uzumaki Naruto, too, was hovering around, missing his signature expression of carefree mischief. It appeared the old Team 7 was not reacting favorably to their teammate's intentions. While this amused Neji, he wasn't entirely sure he liked the possibilities of threat it posed on his charge. This wasn't just a bunch of old men deciding who the Hyuuga heiress should marry, nor was it just an investigation of who might possibly plotting her death. Perhaps, the very problem stretched as far as becoming an international.

And oddly enough, the answers could only be found at home.

2221 05132010

AN:/ er… I am hopeful. Thank you for reading.


	20. Chapter 19: Whispersown Seeds

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Kishimoto Masashi, etc. Only borrowing the series and characters for entertainment. No monetary gain.

**Chapter 19: Whisper-sown Seeds**

What with the heat that had engulfed the room, it was easy to forget that they were actually nearing the later days of autumn. An open window served as a reminder, as it let through the whispering glibness of the approaching winter, of snow even, to a more experienced nose. Elsewhere in the vicinity, the most stoic of the Hyuuga could not help but sniff in appreciation—apples, they noted, and not the slightest bit burnt.

Hinata-sama had been trying her hand on pies, but the crusts have been giving her a bit of trouble. Her cousins, half-willing recipients of her resulting work, assured her that taste had nothing to do with presentation. Let the top crust be lopsided, deformed, or scorched, they said, but she knew they were just being nice. (It never occurred to her that being nice back involved stopping her generosity—they couldn't really say no to the heiress, no matter their personal feelings.) After the failure of the pumpkin pies and the coconut pies, her forbearance paid off. She hit gold with the apple crumb.

The recipes were a great help. They had kept her hands busy, her mind free but not enough for her thoughts to wander too far or too deeply. There was a certain detachment that had descended on her, and she had clung to it—never mind the amount of flour, sugar, and coal she had consumed the past week. Hinata was usually a frugal, conscientious child, but no one thought to question the change. The branch members prudently melted out of her way, when she wasn't in the kitchenette she had commandeered.

The week of absent thinking had cooled her head. Hinata valued friendship, but she did not cling, not when the other party had obviously rejected her. Her father was the only person she'd ever still try with, noone else, not really. She understood enough that Sakura was acting as she thought necessary and right. Whatever her reasons, she said something about not wanting to use Hinata. There was a time when Hinata would have let her, but she guessed, a little startled at the realization, that she had gone pretty far from that lonely, despairing hunger to be accepted.

As she had told the mednin, however, Sakura didn't need to tell her to consider Uchiha Sasuke fair and square. She was comfortable enough with him, enough that she found her initial fear of him quite laughable now. He had a sense of humor, too, a little dark, a little sardonic. He was reasonable, and once she had gotten used to him, they did not bother each other with their silences.

The best part of the deal was that they didn't have to pretend they were destined to fall madly in love with each other.

It was during the evening before he left to fulfill the second task levied by her family that she realized this. She didn't supply him any information this time, and because she wasn't told anything, she didn't ask. She had volunteered to supervise the academy students with their after school activities. He had accompanied her.

"You're good with children," he observed suddenly.

"So I've been told," she responded, her eyes crinkling. "I like them."

"I'll give you time to get used to it," he said after a long pause.

With a flash of insight, she blurted out, "And how many years would you need?"

Sasuke had actually thrown back his head and laughed. At which point, she couldn't help but join in sheepishly.

"Neither of our families have rules about that, at least," he said drily. "And the old farts wouldn't meddle that far."

"So," Hinata ventured hesitantly. "You're really sure about this then, Sasuke-san?"

"I have a week to come to a decision." He looked at her. "So do you."

"I'm pretty much decided," she said quietly, if perhaps, not honestly.

He snorted, but allowed her brave words to lie unmolested.

"I think we should both tie our loose ends, though," she added seriously. "I don't think I enjoy being hated after all."

"It comes with the name?" he suggested sardonically.

"I mean, by people I consider my friends."

"..."

"I'm not suggesting you let them decide for you. It's just that I've learned that people aren't so expendable as to trade one for another. Or I can't, anyway. I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"I have a week," he pointed out again, as if that obviously settled it.

Hinata sighed, but eventually shook her head and smiled. "Shall we shake hands on that? Final answer in a week?"

They had shaken hands in the playground.

Her reasoning hadn't really changed since then, a week after. Her answer what was what it was because she had no real reason to say otherwise. She had a feeling this was similar to his reasoning, too, only it wasn't that he had no reason not to, but that it was the easier course.

She was more comfortable with the decision now, and she felt she could truly say it, when the time came to declare the decision. Despite what he told her, she didn't think she needed that amount of time to get used to the idea that their duty was to produce competent successors. It happened sometimes, when the hereditary leaders of a clan fell short of expectations, as with princes and princesses, the effort was shifted to finding the appropriate consort to offset the shortcomings. She had known from the start she was expected to marry a prodigious individual, produce and nurture an heir that was all she wasn't. So really, the idea of having children with a shinobi she didn't know well—or for that matter, Uchiha Sasuke—wasn't at all foreign. It just took a little effort to imagine. . .

She scrunched up her face, conjuring the taciturn jounin in the kitchenette. He would be neat and methodical, would have all the ingredients properly lined up in small bowls, in the order they would be used. The trash can would be beside him for easy access. (That much she knew from stories. Perhaps, he wasn't really as anal as they say.)

Things would be different if he had a little assistant with him. Hinata imagined a little boy with black hair and pale skin into the picture. He'll be just tall enough to rest his chin on the surface of the counter top, to see the project unfold. He waits eagerly for his father's next assignment, but then suddenly he gets impatient and reaches for the nearest bowl. The senior catches the bowl of eggs before they tilt over and a calloused hand with its signature armband would pat the duck butt indulgently. The boy latches on to him, burying his face on his father's shirt, and patting the counter top insistently, till the other relents and hoists him to sit atop their work station.

He helps with the kneading, sort of, smearing lines of white on his father's face. The elder retaliates, of course, running a palm down the toddler's face. The boy laughs and turns to include her in their snug circle, his smiling eyes the cloudless skies' blue.

Hinata started, knocking aside an empty canister with her sudden movement. It tottered a couple of rounds before tilting, spraying a handful of baking soda in the air. In the split-second she had, she sighted the quizzical blue stare beyond the settling dust, and then her eyes squeezed shut as she succumbed to a long series of sneezes.

"Hullo," he said. "Are you okay?"

"I think so," she managed, after the sneezing passed. "Yes?"

"Oh." He seemed uneasy, like she was about to go berserk. "That's good to hear. The last time I tried to do the choking-rescue-thing, I became wanted for the attempted murder of a Snow country governor."

They were silent as she cleaned up the mess her flailing had created, as she scooped up the spilled powder with a wash cloth and dusted it over the sink. Her heart still thundered in her ears at the surprise of seeing blue eyes both in her mind's eye and in reality. She focused on the damp of the cloth and the coolness of the powder, and eventually, her pulse slowed. Now, that she had ran out of mess to clean up, the quiet turned awkward.

"I figured it out," Naruto announced, just as she was about to open her mouth.

"What did you figure out, Naruto-kun?" she asked after a bit. He had shuffled beside her while she was recovering from her surprise and was now doodling randomly on the granite with a finger.

"Why I was upset. 'Bout you and Sasuke, I mean." He was quite matter-of-fact. "I was jealous."

Hinata thought she may have misheard him.

"You see, Sasuke isn't the type to make friends. He's never really cool with people other than me or Sakura-chan. I guess it felt like he outgrew me or something."

"I think," Hinata said after a thoughtful pause. "It only speaks to how reliant he was on you two, since he never had to try before. With me, he sort of had to?"

"Yeah." Naruto shrugged. "It's not like he even told us."

"He didn't tell me either," Hinata said sheepishly. "I just gathered. I don't think he means to exclude you or anything, just that he doesn't know how to say it." She smiled tentatively. "I only know because I'm like that sometimes."

"Well, there's you, too, I guess," Naruto said moodily. "Say, we're pretty tight, aren't we, Hinata-chan?"

The Hyuuga nodded slowly, unsure of where Naruto was leading the conversation.

"Then suddenly you're tight with Sasuke." He scratched the side of his mouth, smearing baking powder on his face and chin. "It's kind of weird, don't you think?"

Stymied, the dark-haired girl nodded again.

"It's like, how do I say it, we're eating out at Ichiraku's and he takes my spot even though he knows it's always been my spot. It's a sucky analogy but you get it?"

"But we're still friends, right?" Hinata finally blurted out, wide-eyed. "I mean…"

Equally wide-eyed, Naruto stared at her. "Well, yeah." He scratched behind his ear this time, powdering his hair and neck at the movement. "I mean, unless you don't want to be anymore since I've been a big jerk about this."

"I'll forgive you," Hinata replied with a straight face. "Eventually."

The taller ninja squirmed, ran a hand through his hair, and hung an arm on the girl's shoulder in casual camaraderie. "… You're not really serious about that 'eventually,' are you?" he asked with a forced chuckle.

"I might get a better offer," Hinata said, uncharacteristically bold. "Till death do us part?"

Naruto laughed then, impulsively throwing his other hand around her and thumping her back. He kissed her just below her right eye. "For luck," he explained with an impish grin. "You are eventually marrying Sasuke."

Hinata sneezed.

"…marrying Sasuke."

She sneezed again.

"Damn, whatever the icicle's done to you, you're a riot. And synchronized."

"Baking powder," she said. Then, "Would you like some apple crumb? I've been told they were edible."

"Hey, did Shino give you these apples?" The blond jounin was suddenly grave. "'Cause I'm not touching it."

After Hinata assured him no, he proceeded to tell her about his recent mission with her old teammate, in between generous mouthfuls of the pastry and yelps of "hot!" and "this is soooo good!" His friend nodded quietly with a smile, but was uncharacteristically only half listening. Hinata was distracted by a newborn notion, busy with turning over a discovery that was too tantalizing to be frightening. Amazing, she thought, that it didn't take much for this boy to intrude upon her rosy imaginings when once upon a time, she would have never dared—never mind it being a sacrilege or a corruption of the greater world order, her mind wouldn't have even made the connections.

But there it was. In it was a kitchen in disarray, a wooden floor tracked with tiny footprints of flour, and a dark-haired child with eyes of startling blue.

It wasn't so foreign either, was it, she mused to herself.

In this manner, she marveled, and so the day progressed into afternoon.

###

It wasn't typical for a family council to be called at midday. Neji had once given a short but extensive exposition to the piddling few Hyuuga genins on why scheduled councils were called when they were, with both the official and hidden reasons, but was in a good enough mood not to mention the root cause: the Hyuuga elders had a hidden streak of theatricality. Candle-lit meetings an hour before daylight allowed the younger nins time for audience before they left for missions at dawn, while the elders often had no need of that much sleep. (There were other colorful comments that alluded to their vanity, but Hanabi phrased those observations best and she was still notably absent.)

Also atypical was how the full assembly of every available Hyuuga was already gathered in the dark room, the fire pit and the collection of bodies making the normally freezing cellar a stifling pit, uncomplaining with their white-eyed stoic, but murmuring questions. Even with impromptu meetings, it was the supplicant that first came into the room, standing in the darkness and blinded by the fire, projecting his worst anxieties on the swirling shadows made by the placid, ordered arrival of his kinsmen.

Neji stormed into the gathering with iron purpose, sedately reflecting the quick, unreadable glances of his various relations. Despite the odd timing of the meeting, more people than usual were in attendance, some even forgoing lunches or siestas. He had made no secret of his investigation, only of his results. See, he had learned from Maito Gai and his old cellmates. Neji, too, could squeeze every last bit of melodrama from a given situation, if necessary, if it would give him the reaction he needed. Years of unwilling practice proved he could craft a performance as well as any of the ancient prunes fancying themselves in control of the clan.

"We shall start now," he announced as soon as he reached his appointed place.

"Hinata-sama has not come," observed one of the aforementioned dried fruits.

"And she will not. We will begin."

His uncle, Hiashi nodded his approval.

"I assume you will be discussing issues pertinent to Hinata-sama," Hanatarou pointed out delicately. "Then perhaps, she should be present to defend herself, if need be?"

"She shall not need to," Neji responded in a voice that boded no argument. "There are certain truths you might be less inclined to reveal in her presence, for fear of giving offense."

"Are you implying the threat to Hinata-sama is among us?"

"I do not presume to possess the wisdom to judge the guilt of any one in this room, but I will get to the bottom of this, even if I need to dredge this pit for evidence."

He motioned for one of the ceremonial guards to bring for him a sheaf of old documents to the elders.

"This was found among Hinata-sama's belongings, something she was given when she came of age."

"Neji-sama," came the diffident response from one of the younger council members. "This is a pillow book. Er, a book of-"

"Erotic poetry meant to instruct a young woman of her responsibilities as a wife," Neji finished. "That is exactly what I thought when Hanabi-sama first called my attention to what she called the swirly box."

He held up a decorative box to the assembly. Even in the low light, most of the family could make out the opaline whorls on the dark, glossy surface.

"I thought it a legacy left behind by Hinata-sama's esteemed mother, and did not pursue it, until lately. My kinsmen, I have additional information that pointed to the fact that there is a possibility that this is not merely a pillow book, but a contract. A few direct inquiries revealed that this is not in fact the emblem of the Ginta family, from whence Hiashi-sama's beloved wife was born. The pillow book was hand-carved from volcanic rock only mined on the mountains ringing the northwestern border of the Lightning country."

The room was silent, save for the crackling of firewood.

"What else was agreed upon when my father's body was given in exchange for fleeting peace?" Neji continued, implacable and inexorable. "What is the agreement bound upon Hinata-sama's body?"

It was a massively self-assured woman that spoke to break the clawing tension in the room. "You better be prepared to give proof to support your allegations," she warned Neji, a bit too insolently. "It is a serious thing to accuse this council of selling the next head of the clan to the enemy. Explain-"

"There will be enough of this," the head of the family interrupted. "It appears my nephew has uncovered truths that link the current events with our worst fears. So be it.

"Eighteen years ago, it was agreed that a male heir of the Sanada family shall be given as consort to my daughter as an expression of good will, unless the Sanada child is called to greater service."

"Hiashi-sama-!" protested one of the older members.

"What service is this?" the woman, Maram, after a moment's falter, asked in a more respectful tone.

"A candidate for Raikage. In this case, the Hyuuga child will become consort and be given to the Cloud nins. This agreement was writ in both their bodies."

Neji was shaking. "With all due respect," he grounded out, not at all conveying any sort of respect whatsoever. "I fail to understand why my father died to keep Hiashi-sama from falling into the hands of Cloud but at the same stroke gave away his heir and the same Hyuuga secrets."

"It is not that simple, boy," said a wizened old man who rarely spoke. "Gaining a member of the Sanada family on goodwill is far too good a prospect to simply ignore. Hinata-sama was bound to Kasuga's fourth son and the incumbent head of Sanada was a formidable kunoichi that took over the family at a young age without any sign of weakening to her male relatives. The possibility of Hinata-sama having to join him in Cloud was very remote."

"If you believe the chance so remote, why was Hinata-sama being shoved to every possible man of power since she was seventeen?"

"Because she is my child," Hiashi said. There was no other explanation to make and none other in the assembly dared to ask him to elaborate.

It was Hanatarou who spoke after the nervous pause. "The second child, Sanada Meiro's brother died. The council urged Hiashi-sama to seek an appropriate husband for Hinata-sama, to champion her."

"And you found such a person on one Uchiha Sasuke."

"His pedigree and reputation rivals that of the Sanada boy. In this case, his ruthless campaign as a missing nin comes with an infamy and prodigy that very few can deny."

"And if Sasuke doesn't feel like championing anybody?"

"Tomoe Meiro is the head of the Sanada clan and a candidate for the Raikage ascendency race. It is not likely to be necessary."

"Unless this Meiro is immortal, I can't see it as being impossible."

"How is this pertinent to the investigation on Hinata-sama's safety?" asked Maram, the youngest member, obviously shocked by all she has heard.

"If Hinata-sama is a possble asset to a possible candidate for the Raikage ascendency, we cannot dismiss the possibility of Bloodshanks wanting her as leverage or, failing that, out of the way."

Hiashi looked at Neji. "The pillow book also contains instructions on how to unseal the Anahata gate, but both parties must be present. Hanabi has gone abroad to investigate the nature of the Anahata gate seal."

Neji retuned the look, unperturbed. "I will analyze the agreement," he said.

He departed from the council as brusquely and unceremoniously as he came, trailed by the irate questions, warnings, and prognostications of the council members. He ignored most of them, intent on the answer that was beginning to unveil before him.

###

The sun was hovering over the horizon when Sasuke arrived from his hush-hush mission. Weather in general didn't bother him, but it was with some relief he welcomed the milder conditions of Konoha. Even he, at the height of the snowstorm he had to pass through, thought that he'd never be warm again.

He was not the type to let his thoughts wander so far that he would forget his bearings—not these days at least. The nature of the curse seal was such that he became vigilant over the years, that he had to make sure he had the least chance of being caught by surprise as possible. That evening, he didn't find himself taking the routine walk to the assignment center. He detoured and found himself standing at her door.

It shouldn't have been a problem, but see, he had already knocked.

Her father opened the door for him, but merely trained a long, weighing look on the jounin before nodding in greeting and letting him through. Sasuke made his way up the narrow rickety stairway to her room, while her father melted back into the kitchen to his cooking, instead of inviting him for dinner or asking about how his vegetable garden was faring in the colder than normal weather.

When she didn't answer his knocks, he merely let himself in. As he did not sustain bodily injury within the next few seconds, he assumed she was simply that much engrossed in her studies and had chosen to ignore him.

Sakura, being the braniac that she was, had perhaps discovered an alternative way to study. Her head was buried in a mound of scrolls and books, her light snoring loud in the silent room. Her window was open to let the chilly gusts of wind in and her pink, likely uncombed, hair shifted once in a while as a result. A thin rivulet of drool meandered down her chin, into her arm, and into the open book she used as a pillow.

Perhaps, it was her coloring that made it seem like she was so easy to crush and damage. Her hair was suggestive of limp blooms, a little more than weeds that were easy to trample, defenseless. It was difficult for him to keep in mind that she wasn't, because she was once as weak as she now only seemed to be; he once had to protect her constantly. It was strange how little habits that were adopted during ones formative years remain with oneself forever, became near immutable and impossible to break, even after passing through the life-altering flames of hell. It wasn't because he didn't respect her. It was merely instinct, muscle memory.

And perhaps, that was it—why did she let him? The usual contempt he associated with her was as strong as ever, but whereas before she irritated him with her mediocrity and normalcy and helplessness, those conditions no longer existed. She seemed to instinctively want to hide behind him and Naruto all the time, out of fear, out of some desire to be their safety net should they step beyond bounds their society set. He wanted to rip away her meek façade of martyrdom-she was the best in what she did, she was at least half as bat-shit crazy as he was, and it had been years since she might have really died without either their help. It was far healthier to protect a town (or the world, for that matter) rather than douse it in chaos and watch it burn. And he had gotten that message loud and clear, all those years ago. She didn't need to stand still on his account. She didn't need to keep babysitting him.

He wasn't delusional to think it would be easy to just float away from each other. It had been too safe with her, and human nature, she would say, would always yearn for the easier track. Change was difficult. The very idea of being shut out of her life was strangely enraging. And that was Sakura in his head-a few parts contemptible, another few exasperating, another part infuriating, and the rest a chameleon of an inseparable mess of emotions. Knots tangled to such a degree were much safer to cut out, rather than unravel. It would be healthy for both of them; in a calmer mind frame, she would approve of it.

He decided finally to pick her up from the chair and move her to her bed. She was cold like death and for a moment he forgot to breathe. He couldn't lie; he was wary of her startling and fatally wounding him in self-defense. If he woke her up, she'd probably insist on resuming her studies. If she were in already bed, she might find the effort of getting up troublesome and an effective deterrent. Naturally, he didn't expect that she wouldn't wake at all during the course of the transfer; he was just banking on her not waking up immediately from sheer exhaustion.

By the time he pulled the blankets about her, she had opened her eyes to stare at him curiously—he had done as much for him before. Why must she think it so strange? There was still quite a bit of sleep on her face, like she wasn't really making an effort to distinguish between dream and reality.

"Yo," she said.

He nodded in response.

"Long time no see, Sasuke-kun."

"Aa."

And they were quiet again as she drifted in and out of her doze.

"I like the fur lining on your hoodie," she said languorously. "Didn't think you the type, but it does fit your pale beauty."

He would have rolled his eyes. It was amazing how forward the little twit had become over the years. She wouldn't have had the guts to call him beautiful to his face when they were twelve years old.

"But back to business. How can I help you?"

Why must it always be her helping him?

"I'm going to get married," he said.

"I heard that might be," she replied after a while. He was beginning to think she had fallen back to sleep again. "So why are you telling me?"

"…?"

"We've avoided each other for a quite some time, you know. Just surprised you came all the way here, after such a long trip, just to tell me that. You must have had less sleep than me."

"It's the sort of thing friends do."

She blinked several times, as if to moisten her eyes, and then she lifted her head to look at him. "Thank you," she said simply. "Congratulations."

He nodded and she slid back to her pillows. "Hinata-chan has the aptitude." Her words were slurring once again. "I can teach her the basics for now, but then eventually, she'll be able to tackle a level two."

"And beyond that?"

"…Let's just say, I am on the cusp of a… breakthrough," she murmured with great effort. "Once we hammer down... protocol. No need for me… Come running. Odd hours. Niiigh…"

Sakura started to snore at that point.

The sun was low in the sky when Sasuke left through her window.

###

That information existed in neatly collated and deciphered batches was a convenience not often found in real life. Thus, missions involving the confiscation-even better, the clandestine replication-of such treasure troves were considered among the riskiest and most expensive in the business. In fact, if any collection did exist, it wasn't generally advertised by the select few who owned and controlled it.

That was the irony of Neji's mission that started with merely escorting his cousin about the village. Even within the village walls, it was a given to treat the information in their archives as suspect and with a grain of salt. There could always be something omitted or unaccounted for. A true investigation did not rely solely on documents but on arduous field work and keen reconnaissance. They were by no means invaluable, of course, but they were merely guiding points.

Missions relied on both the clients' pay and the village's collective resources. The manpower relegated to missions that served individuals and certain clans, as opposed to the interests of the entirety, were sometimes classified as less important. This tendency has gotten arguably better over the decades—the village took care of its own fiercely and drew strength in this tight-knit solidarity, but as with anything there were chinks.

The Hyuuga clan was granted two Class A missions that quarter, in addition to having two jounins pulled out of the active rosters indefinitely (and as it turned out, a jounin-functioning chuunin, as well). Considering how those two Class A missions occupied another jounin for weeks at a time, the Hyuuga were definitely pulling all strings to have their problem taken care of as smoothly and quietly as possible, while retaining the stoic dignity of their name.

Neji considered how much the village government knew about the problem. He was now given free rein to peruse the information that Tenten had needed to smuggle to him weeks ago. He hadn't, didn't expect to find anything new, but the cold storage pods that snaked underneath bits of the village bedrock afforded him the privacy to, if not fall to pieces, shudder within his skin, shriek within his skull.

For the first time in ten years, he doubted the truths behind his father's death.

It was only natural that even a person like Neji, who for that brief first years of his life was so loved, would refuse to believe that a parent had chosen an ultimately selfish desire over his own child. For years, he nursed his hatred of the main family on the belief that his father was forced to die for his brother, as he could not believe his father would willingly just go when he had a son to raise. And after he was told the truth, even now, in the secret corners of his mind, he could not accept the fact that his father took the lone avenue for escape and left him behind, left him in that same elegantly-wrought cage all of them sought to escape.

That his uncle had humbled himself years ago to explain the intentions of his father when he took Hiashi's place in the exchange, one cadaver for another, spoke of Hiashi's belief on the matter. Hizashi's exodus may have led to the path of the dead, but it was a path dearly chosen and bought. That sacrifice rippled through his family in ways that extended beyond Neji himself. The brotherly bond between the twins, entwined as it was with a hatred borne by their fates, was something Neji would never be privy to. The Spartan treatment of the Hyuuga heiress was no doubt testament to this. Beyond the unfathomable mask he wore as the Hyuuga head, what resentments did Hiashi bore his brother? His daughter? His self?

Many a man had lamented Neji's being borne of the wrong father. It seemed some of these men had seen a way around this problem.

"You asked what will happen should Uchiha Sasuke refuse to champion our heiress," Hanatarou had said in his annoying, superior way. He had accosted Neji on a seemingly empty hallway in the mansion. "There is any number of individuals, who fit the bill of prodigious ninja in our village-surely, the succession of tragedies, albeit deeply unfortunate, have steered to surface such distinctive individuals. However, less than a handful will truly be able to place our heiress's best interests, and therefore the clan's, to heart. "

The man, for once, did not balk under Neji's steely expression. His unflinching look hinted on an honest, quiet hope that made the jounin remain to listen to the rest of what he had to say.

"There is precedence. The general public may frown upon such an affront to their sensibilities, but they will accept it as part of our clan's eccentricities.

"Therefore, Hyuuga Neji, in the name of our family do I ask you to weigh your options well and see beyond what is merely tangible, as your father had before you. Perhaps, you will find he did not abandon you without guidance, after all."

To have such a tantalizing possibility dangled in front of his face… there was no space for Neji to even know what he was thinking. The bitterness that had subsided for years, congealed, multiplied, took form and fisted in his heart. It overrode the logical order of his thoughts and distracted him from focusing on the problem at hand. First, the possibility of lifting the bird seal curse on forehead, and now this?

It was very easy, rationally-speaking, to choose what step to take next. Challenging Sasuke to take his place as Hinata-sama's suitor (and later her betrothed and eventual husband), to pre-empt the slight chance of her being claimed by Sanada Kasuga's fourth son, would not solve anything. There was still the question of Hinata-sama's safety: was Bloodshanks a fluke, a lone man who took a chance? Or was he a tiny cog in larger machinations? That question remained, and the answers suggested by the information he had collated was not comforting.

(And yet another question, one he was man enough to confess he was not prepared to answer yet: given the possibilities, what did he want? Must one enter a room just because its door was unlocked? Or a better analogy, would a song bird fly away, if its golden cage was left open? Did it recognize those bars served as protection as well and would that deter him from embracing the clear skies and seeking passage to the sun itself just because nothing stood to stop him from trying?)

The lone tendril of doubt that was seeded in his heart steadily vined its way up Neji's brain, with the insidiousness and tenacious permanence of a weed.

It was impossible to ignore.

###

Some people might accuse Uzumaki Naruto of being superstitious, but more would claim that to be impossible-he didn't have enough forethought to base decisions on a thought-out idea, irrational or not. Still, there had to be something lucky about the way he kept running a finger across his lower lip when he wasn't paying attention. Once or twice, he even caught his tongue doing the odd, searching touch, as if expecting the remnants of a sweet there, like dried bean paste from that rice cake the street sweeper shared with him this morning, before he had to rush off with the Garlic Guy.

Well. He didn't expect to feel that much better.

Up until the time he spent creeping through the holy halls of Hyuuga (he couldn't help it; nobody was nice enough to lead the way) and finally finding the kitchenette after getting lost twice, he didn't know what he was going to say. Then, she was there, and it was far too much trouble to get lost again. He decided talk to her, trust whatever came out of his mouth, and resolved not to leave till everything was fine again.

It all came out in the open, how he felt suddenly unneeded by two of his closest friends, how he felt lost, thinking his place in their lives had been replaced.

Hinata-chan felt so much like Hinata-chan today, that Naruto knew nothing was going to change, after all. They'd still talk for hours about random things, hang out over bowls of ramen and make fun of her funny family customs, maybe have missions together once her assassin problem got taken care of. It was all so normal that he couldn't remember why he had made such a big deal about it. Why, being able to make fun of Sasuke with Hinata was such a load off his shoulders that it felt like…. Well, it's like when you eat something that disagrees with your belly and you have rip-roaring stomachache? And you're on the move and there's no bathroom, and it'll be a bad idea to just find a bush and let it rip, 'cause getting killed while taking a dump is just wrong, and after holding it in for forever, you finally get to a safe place and you're beside yourself finding a toilet and you pull down your pants and bear down even before the door slams shut?

Holey moley, but it was that feeling.

Hinata-chan couldn't join him for an early supper at the Ichiraku's that evening.

"Not tonight, sonny," the sentry had told him with an odd catch in his gruff voice. Funny, Naruto had always thought the guy detested him and now he was getting touchy-feely? "Hinata-sama has a set engagement for tonight."

What did piss him off was how the doorkeeper knew what Hinata-chan herself didn't know, but he was distracted from his snit by a light tap on his shoulder.

"Why don't you give him my share?" Hinata had said with a wry smile. "Hino-san, why don't you split it, set my share aside, and I'll come by for it later? Sometimes, I don't get enough to eat in these functions."

"A midnight snack!" Naruto exclaimed, smashing his fist on a palm. "That's awesome, but I have a mission early tomorrow and Baba said she'll rip me a new one if I oversleep again." The blond ninja frowned. "She said I'm more of an embarrassment than that grabby, lightning kid… what grabby lightning kid?"

That bit was disappointing, but the general tenor of his mood upon leaving the Hyuuga sector was high, euphoric. So euphoric, in fact, that he felt like could talk to Sasuke now and it won't degenerate into a contest of killing each other more creatively. He decided that he was far less likely to try if both of them had steaming bowls of ramen before them. That sealed the deal as far as Naruto was concerned; he ordered several varieties of flavor to go. Sasuke ate like a dieting girl sometimes, so he'd probably only pick a flavor or two randomly. Naruto would get to keep the rest.

The Uchiha sector was deserted—it usually was—but Sasuke was supposed to have returned that day. Naruto had even checked first with the village gate-watchers, who told him that Sasuke had arrived home that morning. He figured Sasuke would have gone for debriefing first. Some missions were so involved that people have been locked up for days, working with specialists to analyze data or events, but that couldn't be the case this time, could it? The blond ninja must have looked so down in the dumps that an ANBU appeared to speak to him.

"Your boyfriend came home four hours ago, puttered around his mausoleum for a bit, and went to Missions Assignment."

Naruto ought to have beaten the bastard black and blue for that jibe, but his hands were full. He considered that thank you enough for the kindly informant and so walked around aimlessly for a bit.

He sat down in somebody's garden set (not in the ghost-infested Uchihaville, of course) and ate a bowl and a half of ramen before figuring he should go to Sakura's place.

"Hey, Mister Haru… no…" Naruto's cheerful greeting sputtered to a stop when the Haruno's door opened to the homicidal face of Sakura's father. "Uh, I, erm, just wanted to see if Sakura-chan wanted some ramen. If it's a bad time I'll just… leave."

Sakura's father seemed to work his jaw for a good minute before answering.

"Good," he said quietly. "She might eat that."

That was Naruto's first warning that something was wrong. His mood was still happy, but now tempered with caution. Sakura, after all, was not unknown to deal with negative emotion by pummeling some unlucky idiot who aggravated her further.

He didn't want to be that idiot.

The second bad sign was when he found himself unharmed minutes after entering her dark room without knocking. (The door was ajar and he didn't exactly have an available fist to use.)

He figured out where she was in the darkness by the sound of successive hiccups.

"Oh, there you are, Sa—"

"Don't take another step!" she cried out. "Some asshat left my rolling chair in the middle of the doorway where anybody can just trip and break their neck. S-sorry it's dark. I was trying to study and I kicked my lamp to bits now, so I can't study anymore. And if you spill anything in my room, I'll make you lick it! With bleach!"

Her genin cellmate froze instantly, well-learned from previous threats left unheeded. He zeroed in on the sound of his friend's voice, however, and whatever body injury he'd receive for his impertinence, he couldn't let this pass.

"You're crying," he snarled, instantly furious. So that's where his missing _friend_ had been, _here_, making their friend cry. Only one person could reduce Sakura to tears she could not stop when she needed to. Sakura had not cried in front of them for years now. She wouldn't have been caught dead.

"I-I know!" she said miserably. "It's the stupidest thing, and I can't stop!"

"Sakura-chan—"

"Don't say it! Don't. Just don't." Naruto's eyes had adjusted enough that she could make out her shape, sitting on the floor near her desk, nestled by what look liked piles of books and documents. "I know. I know, I know, I know! I'm a hypocrite. I'm so full of myself that I thought it was impossible. I thought we were enough for him, Naruto. I thought he wouldn't-he'd never-give in to what they want, that he'd just pretend to go on and pull out of it and entrap them in their own schemes!

"I focused on getting him out of the trouble he'd land in, when he rebelled. But he didn't, and now, now… I don't know! I didn't think he could decide like this so quickly. And he's never ever just come and told me something. It must be true! And I'm just, I'm just-I'm a horrible person, Naruto. There are-there are no words-"

Naruto stared at her through the stack of ramen, taken aback that she seemed to be intent on pulling out her hair, mop-like in the semi-darkness. "I think I know what you feel, Sakura-chan," he said uncertainly. "But Sasuke and Hinata-chan… even if they marry, it's not like… they'll still be our friends, you know?"

"I don't want to be friends with Sasuke," the mednin snapped. "And don't give me that rigmarole about being the stupidest girl in the world! I am so sick and tired of hearing Ino, tell me that I have to be pathologic to even like that ba—ass—motherfu-_him_. I was perfectly fine! It was perfectly fine the way it was. I mean, he was just there. He was always supposed to be there, and we could be friends. I mean, we were, but what rights do I have now, Naruto?

"Tell me, what rights do I have? To call myself his friend when I didn't think even for a moment that if he doesn't get over his aversion to human contact, his line would end with him? What sort of _friend_ am I, Naruto? I, who can wish, had wished, a friend to just stay static and unwell and just-just fucked up the way he is, just because I want to keep him leashed to me?"

Naruto let her self-directed diatribe hang in the air for a moment. It was so ironic how he thought her a goddess at that moment, when she had always been the sort who bloomed oh-so-beautifully when she was happy and everything was well in her minutely-ordered world. But the fury of emotions made her usually pale cheeks vivid, and the pink of her hair seemed silver-blue under the sliver of streetlight that flickered on from outside the shuttered window her desk faced. She looked at him with all her despair, the tears in her eyes pearled white by the rising moon. The vision struck him like a blow to his chest.

"Do you love him?" he finally asked.

She hissed for a breath in between sobs, then spoke angrily. "Why?" she demanded. "Don't you?"

"I'm asking you."

She stopped, wiping her face with a knuckle, and stared down on her cluttered floor.

"I'm asking you," he repeated quietly when she still didn't answer.

"… I do love him."

"Then," he said with an explosive sigh, as if he were the one in pain. "You'll do something about this."

She looked up at the shaking challenge in his voice. "Yes," she said, steel returning to hers. "I'll be fine tomorrow."

He disagreed and the set of his jaw gave it away.

"It's a good thing," she insisted. "I need to get this all out. I'd be fine tomorrow. But for now…" Her voice wavered again, teetered on the verge of a wail. "But for tonight, it should be fine, right? If I think of this as something at the scale of the end of the world, you won't think less of me? It's okay, right, Naruto?"

Naruto was speechless, unable to interrupt the mixed-up, contradictory monologue, but unable to take more of it without leaving there and then and murdering somebody. All he could be was be his usual self, and see how she would be tomorrow. Because for all his anger, for all his hurt, what he learned the past few weeks stayed true. He couldn't go around demanding people to change their feelings to suit his understanding of the world. So even if he had been right about Sakura, if Hinata was settled with Sasuke, and Sasuke was settled with Hinata, what right had he to decide Sasuke belonged to Sakura?

(Or that Sakura belonged to him when she clearly wanted to belong to someone else?)

He pushed all that away for the moment and stepped carefully around the scattered scrolls on the floor. He asked her to make room for his bowls, because he couldn't feel his arms anymore. Startled, she did as she was told, and allowed him to badger her into eating a bowl of ramen, assuring her that he'd stay at least half an hour after, long enough for the food she ingested to go down all the way to her stomach, as she always scolded him about. The rest of the night would be hers to study or sleep, whatever she wanted.

Sakura in turn waited till her friend was too far to hear her, before she resumed her crying, coiled up under the covers, now in her bed.

When Naruto left the Haruno home, he looked up and saw the dardnest thing.

There was no moon.

01112011 0037

(ducks)

Ah, sorry, Shaanu. I finally did look it up: (soon-er-gos').

Thank you for reading and waiting for this thing, and for the kind comments.

And thank you to miko-chan noda. I badger her to read and tell me if it makes sense. She's been kind despite her toxic schedule.


	21. Chapter 20: Interregnum

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Kishimoto Masashi, etc. Only borrowing the series and characters for entertainment. No monetary gain.

**Chapter 20: Interregnum**

The comings and goings in the life of a Hyuuga, as in other ancient families, revolved around traditions and rules. Some stipulations were followed even to the letter, without regard to whether it was sensible or ridiculous, whether the reasons behind were still remembered or already forgotten. What compelled one to follow was simply duty, regardless of whatever personal opinion. And it was simply out of duty Hyuuga Neji stood towering among the shadows, atop the ancestral home's roof, implacable and unyielding even to the elements.

It was a frigid evening under an overcast sky that bated its breath for some event many people glumly predicted to be snow. The thick anorak he wore over the standard ANBU get-up kept most of the continually blowing wind at bay, while a vague irritation cordoned off the intrusion of vexing thoughts and unanswerable questions. Now, if _she_ had some respect for the elements, she wouldn't be lolling about outside, and he'd be some place a few degrees warmer, working on problems she was happily oblivious about.

Not that Neji had much respect for the weather himself.

Through the slits of the bird mask, his white eyes glowed, seeing even in the darkness and through the occasional flurries. He scanned the surroundings with his fabled eyes, more to keep himself focused on the job, than real concern for his charge's safety. If it were a clear night sky, he would have occupied himself with locating constellations (and inventing a few of his own). If it were daytime, he would have lapsed to his boyhood pastime of counting birds. If it weren't that day, he wouldn't have needed the petty distractions at all. He hadn't been seeing birds for days now.

She hadn't move from her position for a while; he realized she had succumbed to the dark thoughts he himself had managed to keep at bay, after giving himself a few contained minutes to acknowledge the maelstrom of warring emotions beneath his veneer of calm. She was as impassive as he was at times and there was nothing specific to read from her. Her straight black hair danced around her, following the steps dictated by the night breeze. Some ice had clung to the strands of her long hair, reflecting the light coming faintly from her bedroom.

Like stars.

Stars like those could be caught easily. But as she made no move to grasp them, he didn't volunteer to do it for her. The head was the problem, he decided. The sable cloak draped haphazardly over the gown of gray damask was probably providing her with sufficient heat, but she was losing much body warmth from her uncovered head. Now, he didn't really care if the heiress of Hyuuga suddenly succumbed to colds the next day—it wouldn't kill her—but that would also confine him to the maudlin halls of the mansion. He needed, now more than ever, to be able to move.

Neji allowed himself an inaudible sigh and readied to leap down to administer an admonishment, but then he stopped. They were no longer alone.

"Sasuke-san."

The low, soft voice floated up to his ears quite distinctly. Neji noted the usage of "san," as usual. It was different from the customary way the village girls referred to the idolized "heartthrob," in that momentary lapse of sense they sometimes still had. Absently, he thought on the significance of the variation.

"Good evening." She had turned slightly and was presently bent low in greeting. He returned it with a curt motion of his head.

"Aa," came his verbal response, a few seconds late. "Hinata."

They were silent for long moments. Neither had ever had reputations of being talkative or responsive, but tonight even Hinata-sama wasn't attempting to scrape up a polite conversation. Sasuke saw no need to tell her that the servants ushered him straight from his audience with the elders to her private apartments. She saw no need to tell him that the Hyuuga head and his heiress were expected to make an announcement of particular interest to the important figures in Konohagakure no Sato.

"Is he really necessary?" Sasuke asked. "Your chaperon."

She laughed. She rarely laughed. "It's not the question of necessity, Sasuke-san."

"Aa."

"His constant presence pisses off Naruto, doesn't it?"

Hinata's smile faltered. Neji saw the miniscule movement of the muscles surrounding her mouth. "Y-yes," she answered, momentarily lapsing to her childhood tendency to stutter. "At first. But not for a while now."

"Aa."

"Does Sakura-san know you have returned safely from your mission?"

"The protocol is to report to the assignment center," came the rather tart reply. Neji noted the twitch to the former missing-nin's left eye, a testament to the degree of his irritation.

"I'm sorry if I have offended you. Kiba-kun and Shino-kun habitually tell me when they leave for and arrive from missions. I shouldn't have assumed it was so for all old genin cellmates."

"Don't belabor it."

"But really, Sakura-san would be anxious to know the outcome of such a mission."

"It'll do wonders to her blood pressure if she limits her worrying to her medicinal studies."

Hinata suppressed the widening of her smile.

Above them, Neji was little amused by the exchange. It was pathetic how his cousin and her suitor exchanged not-so-subtle barbs, as if to deter the other by reminder, as if hoping the other would relent and stop before they step over the threshold of no return. However, tonight was different. Hinata-sama was not the type to tease so unaffectedly, and for Sasuke to acknowledge what she was implying… It seemed during the times Neji had looked away, they were able to pull out all their cards in front of them and had come to an understanding, even finding humor in their situation.

"The elders have spoken to me," Sasuke spoke, suddenly pulling the business at hand to head. "Their advice is sound."

"You are inclined to agreeing to their proposition?"

"It takes two," muttered the Sharingan user.

"In this case, the decision lies entirely with you, Sasuke-san," she replied quietly. "I do not choose; I comply."

"Don't make me shoulder all of the responsibilities," Sasuke said flatly. "The terms of this partnership are equal and binding. I doom my ass, you doom yours."

Hinata-sama did not respond for the longest time.

"I see no sufficient reason not to venture into this," she said quietly. "It would be beneficial to both of us. Genetically, politically... The combination of our bloodlines would strengthen the village, the country itself."

"I can think of one," Sasuke suddenly said. "I would be marrying into _your_ family. My ambition is to resurrect my clan, not merge it with the Hyuuga."

"You're wrong." Hinata's voice was faintly self-mocking. "_I_ would be marrying into the Uchiha clan. I would be the one sacrificed to resuscitate the dying clan. Didn't we discuss this before?"

"Sacrifice?" Sasuke's eyebrow went up. "And yes, we have talked about this before."

"I used the term for expediency." She paused. "And also because it's not easy for one to accept that one is a faulty part being disposed of so conveniently-even for me."

"So I'm getting the bad end of the bargain here?"

"Hardly. My genes are perfectly all right. It's just me."

"Aa," came the wry reply. "And here I thought I was going to be the next Hyuuga head."

At that, it was Neji's eyebrow that shot up. The lone Uchiha's glimmer of humor banked on the dangerous side.

"Doesn't matter," Sasuke continued with a shrug. "One less thing to worry about. Anything else? Or should I propose to you now?"

"What about our feelings?"

"Feelings?" Sasuke gave a bark of laughter. "You realize I've actually been courting your family, right? This is an arranged match."

"Ridiculous, isn't it?" Hinata murmured.

Neji rolled his eyes-slightly, very slightly, but he still did. The two were getting cloying. The sooner Uchiha asked his question, the sooner Hinata would answer. And then they'd all be inside as sane people should be. The dinner would become an engagement party. He'd be able to concentrate on wrapping up the assignment elsewhere and not have to be close to certain unpleasant truths.

It was starting.

"I, Uchiha Sasuke, would like to request Hyuuga Hinata for the honor of bearing and raising my progeny, becoming my most favored consort and partner in the reinstitution of the clan of Uchiha."

It was done. Satisfied, Neji dusted snow off himself and was about to disappear into the night. He never did enjoy social gatherings. With that part settled, he could focus chasing the ghosts of the assassins abroad, instead of chasing documents in the village. "I, Hyuuga Hinata, respectfully decline this honor."  
Neji whirled around to stare at his cousin.

"A simple no would have been less irritating," Sasuke replied shortly.

Irritation was a minor thing. Neji himself was close to gibbering rage. Of course, she didn't know what she was inadvertently forcing him to do, but it did not deter his anger.

It didn't help at all when Hinata grinned rather impishly. "An epiphany," she explained to her suitor. "I think I've gotten fond of you, Sasuke-san, so I'm sharing it with you."

"Stupidity is contagious."

Neji was inclined to agree with him.

"Elaborate," Sasuke ordered tersely.

"You know how the diseased clump with those of the same affliction?" asked Hinata. "It's like that. We really are so alike in many ways that it's easy to believe we'll be okay in the long run. Among ninjas, we are both feared and respected. Men and women will seek us for marriage-whether for our advanced bloodlines, our inheritance, or some other reason. Both of us are thought to be silent, brooding, mysterious... terrifying even. Both of us face the world with impervious facades, near-omniscient eyes. My white eyes... your Sharingan... And yet we can never look into our souls without twisting with sick, hopeless hatred."

Sasuke crossed his arms, but said nothing. The gesture screamed defensiveness. The surprise was better concealed however. The dark eyes of the jounin blinked at the girl's pronouncement. It would be easy to mistake it as a part of the natural periodic closure of the eyes. But Neji saw that that particular blink was out of synch with the pattern of the rest.

"You didn't think I'd know, huh?" Hinata continued. "I pick up on those sorts of things. It's easy to recognize the familiar."

She turned away slightly. Neji couldn't see her expression anymore. If she started whispering then, he wouldn't be able to hear. Then again, why should her words interest him in the first place? If he had truly resolved that the outcome of this conversation would not force his hands to make a decision he was not prepared to make as yet, then he did not need to know the outcome so badly, not badly enough to openly spy on his cousin.

But she didn't whisper.

"Both of us are elements of the dark," she said. "We gravitate towards each other naturally. We would sink together into misery and despair-and be perfectly content with that, I'm sure. But see, life isn't as simple as that. The negation of life is a simple thing, but actually living...?"

She paused to chew on her lower lip and seemed to disappear into her incomplete question. Then she gathered herself and looked back to her silent suitor.

"I've decided long ago I wanted to change. I knew it then—know it still—that it was going to be extremely hard. I don't think I've quite succeeded yet... Perhaps, never will...

"But one day I realized something. Even the bleakest night always breaks into dawn. No matter how long darkness seems to be, morning always follows. And as the years have shown, the death of winter, no matter how seemingly endless, eventually succumbs to the miracle of spring, of rebirth." She suddenly burst into laughter . "I just never thought it applied to me!"

Sasuke didn't even bother to hide the annoyance in his voice. "That was a most enlightening response," he said sarcastically. "I should have settled for the 'no' and spared myself the trouble of expending extra humility to ask for explanations."

Hinata turned around to give him a tremulous smile. "You see, Sasuke-san, it's quite simple," she tried to explain. "_He_ is my sun."

A few moments passed before the other answered. "But as inexorably," came the last Uchiha's grim pronouncement, "night comes after day, and day after night. And a late frost could kill the hardiest of buds even in the middle of spring."

"Even at night, the sun is still present. I may choose to turn my back on its warmth, but it will always be there. And you forget. The seeds, fallen in the autumn, have to live through winter first before finding fertile circumstances to grow, however long that winter lasts."

His eyes flashed with certain anger. "We are different. You turn continuously, while I wear winter's cloak year-round. I will never knowingly lacerate the fragile petals of those buds. I owe her that much."

"Oh, but this is easier than I thought," murmured the dark-haired young woman. "Is this the first time you've ever admitted it?"

Sasuke refused to budge, merely stared at her and did not offer more words that could be used against him.

"But you see those two..." Hinata continued with a faint smile. "They're much stronger than we give them credit for. Much stronger than us. We—I need him to keep growing, and when I looked, I saw that it wasn't a total misfit, that it wasn't wrong to need that support.

"I didn't look that closely before. It never even crossed my mind that we could be equals, because he was just too good for me. And don't get me wrong. I'm not saying things will go the way I wish it to. I just want to see what happens next. That's all."

"…"

"I'm serious, Sasuke-san. Try it. You've fit in her world for years. Now, try altering the terms, in your mind's eye. It's not a total misfit, either, is it?"

Neji couldn't see Sasuke's expression anymore. The snow must be falling more thickly. What he did see was Sasuke walking towards Hinata wordlessly and then Sasuke squeezing her arm. Finally, Hinata's rejected suitor spoke.

"Good luck with your sun," he said gravely. "He's mellowed with age, but still highly combustible. This psychological talk thing will not work on him."

"Thank you, Sasuke-san."

He nodded and readied to flit away.

"Wait."

He stopped.

"The next time you propose, you might want to re-write your speech."

Sasuke returned her white gaze impassively. "Aa."

"You might want to remove the part that hinted on polygamy."

"Aa." His eyes were just a bit flinty.

"Oh. And she'll appreciate your emotional honesty. Don't be afraid to be all fatuous and scandalously gushy because there'd be no bodyguards watching her anyway."

"I understand." Neji noticed Uchiha had some trouble dealing with teasing.

"I promise, no woman will get scared away by your intensity-I've always been known as a pushover and _I_ wasn't."

Sasuke stalked off, muttering to himself.

Hinata laughed quietly at his wake, but Neji wasn't fooled one bit. Trust that moron to second guess her decision to decide her own fate.

"Neji-nii," she said suddenly, looking towards his direction. "Come in and have tea with me. It's my fault you're all frozen up there."

Neji merely grunted. He leaped down to her, reached into the warm folds of his overcoat, and gave her a towel.

"Wipe the melted snow off your face and get yourself dried."

"Thank you, niisan. Get yourself dried, as well. I wouldn't want you to get a cold."

"As you wish, Hinata-sama."

He followed her in, pondering on the new insights he had gathered about his cousin—and once, his enemy. Dark and light. Night and day. Winter and spring. He had to admit it was pretty amusing to hear her present those simple opposites and complements to the avenger, no matter how sickly sentimental it sounded, just to get her point across.

He took one last look at the now, nearly white night. Perhaps, tomorrow there'd still be no birds to see, but they always come back in spring. He was fine with that. As he had promised himself, he would allow neither their absence nor the just-concluded conversation to force his hand.

"By the way, Neji-nii," Hinata said, haltingly. "I know the timing is a bit odd but… can you tell me everything you've found out during your investigation?"

Neji indulged on a tiny smile of satisfaction.

"I suppose, I owe you that at least," he said, after letting his younger cousin stew over his unreadable silence. "In return for the cookies."

"N-neji-nii!" The heiress face was a complicated mix of disappointment and surprise. She had forgotten about her friend's last gift, now long gone. "The snickerdoodles!"

"Though, I suppose nothing is stopping you from asking for more."

The girl paused, thought this over, and laughed in quiet relief. "That's true, isn't it?"

Finally, it seemed he was going to be getting some willing help soon.

###

Somewhere in the young man's mind, somewhere suitably peripheral, irritation registered.

_It never snowed in Konoha._

He usually didn't care enough for his missions to be personally troubled by nuances. He would see to their flawless execution as a matter of pride. (And he did retain pride in his work, whatever people liked to tell themselves, because he had to take some sort of enjoyment on his endless toil). As long as he was paid appropriately, he could accept the irritations involved as a mere part of the job.

There was something particularly personal about not completing a Class S mission for a woman one was intending to marry, which as a result was then downgraded to a Class A. There was something personal when he waded through the blizzard twice, a tenaciously slow-moving one that didn't pack that much on the winds, but seemed to have sucked up all the moisture in the western continent, to and from an even more frigid destination. In fact, Sasuke realized he didn't have a good understanding of the word fjord before then.

It was something personal when the woman for whose sake he had gone for said mission simply decided to reject the proposal he had taken pains to dig out of mildew-eaten family documents, taken pains to resolve with himself that he needed to get it over with eventually. It was something personal when he was rejected by a half-assed attempt at psychologizing him to examine his own life and values, just because said girl decided she wanted to "act upon a curiosity."

Misfit his ass.

He paused atop some random roof, surveying the sleeping village as the shimmering dust piled up. All the sand-like glitter was misleading; it was a wet sort, that snow. He looked up then, watched the snowflakes dance down from what seemed like black oblivion. From up where he stood, it seemed like he was in the vast sky. It was even possible to feel like one of those cold bits falling speedily. Those flakes melted easily on contact, and they stuck on the bare wraithlike trees that stood sentry over the village. Like sugar, they formed enchanting sculptures on the leafless branches—just as they did on his gorgeous scowling face.

Unexpectedly (or maybe he should have foreseen it), a blast of wind sent snow whirling up his face, spraying a flake or so into his nostrils.

He sneezed. Thrice in succession.

Sniffing in annoyance, he discovered that his nose was running. His sleeves were frozen stiff, so he couldn't use them without rubbing his face off along with the snot. Instead, he searched his pockets for the limpid remains of some lacy cloth and blew on it. He was satisfied that carrying that thing around amounted to something. Who knew that some useless thing that princess person gave him actually became useful?

"All right, come out," he suddenly called out, his voice sounding a tad nasal. "Do you make it a habit to laugh by yourself when you're stalking your prey, dead-last?"

Uzumaki Naruto, blond hair spiked with ice, appeared beside him and erupted with uncontrollable laughter.

"Damn!" he gasped out after the initial roar. "Did I just see that? Did you just really, really sneeze?"

"..."

"_Uchiha Sasuke sneezed_!" Naruto announced to the night. "An iceman sneezing! Hot damn, who knew? Never thought I'd see the day!"

"If this random onset of stupidity is done now..."

"It's out of character, ice-man. It's so weird, I'm having goose bumps."

Sasuke started to leave.

"Dammit, Sasuke!" Naruto's voice was angry now; a sudden change, Sasuke clinically observed without surprise or interest. He looked at the ire-contorted face of his old teammate, at the bristling of the whiskers on that stupid face, and decided that Uzumaki Naruto was a waste of skin.

"You're a waste of skin," he told the blond ninja.

"What?" the other demanded, blue eyes bugging out. "Say that to my face!"

Sasuke obliged, leveled his scowl against the other's, and repeated himself. "You're a waste of skin." For good measure, he expounded on his topic. "You're so brainless, a jellyfish can move into your vapid skull and do a better job."

The Uchiha Avenger meant every word. If this dense idiot noticed things more quickly, Hyuuga Hinata wouldn't have taken it into her head to wait for something that would come when pigs learned to fly, and he, Uchiha Sasuke, would be saved the trouble of being twice rejected that day. The ordeal wouldn't even have had to come to this point. The entire absurdity had an amazingly logical progression and it was all rooted in this moron's inattentiveness and cluelessness.

"Why don't you go die in a hole somewhere and save the world the trouble of having to get rid of your carcass once you're exterminated?"

"Don't change the subject, Sasuke." The much-abused jounin was serious, his anger in turn inciting Sasuke's into a serious, razor-sharp kind as well. "You made her cry, son of a bitch."

"I don't know what the fuck you're on tonight, but you better get your hands off my shirt before you find it halfway up your bowels—"

"Tell me something that makes sense, and I will."

The former missing nin was suddenly too tired to argue, and just as quickly, his rage deflated into an exasperated annoyance. "I'm cold," he said, uncharacteristically forthright. "I'm wet. I'm tired. I don't give a shit what you or a bunch of stuck-up old men think I should do. Let me go home now."

"You really intend to marry Hinata-chan?"

"I really intended to. Happy?"

"What about Sakura-chan?"

"What _about_ Sakura?" The dark anger returned. This bastard had no right to flaunt to his face what he obviously never had the right to—

"You made her cry, you know." Naruto's voice dropped low. "You have no idea how bad it hurt to know she would never cry for me like that. But then, I thought to myself, why should I ever wish for any woman to cry over me like that? Ever?

"I promised her that I wouldn't interfere with you, but I've had enough. You don't deserve her."

"Then go off and ride into the sunset." Pride was all he had and to pride Sasuke clung as he infused his response with all the icy calm he could muster. "Go off and deserve each other in your rosy imagining and your pastel-hued future. I know I'm a disease to her perfect existence. I never begged her to take pity on me—she has no right to blame me for her failed reformation project. I don't know what else she wants from me, but I'm tired. Now let me go home."

Naruto finally focused on the intensity of the vitriol dripping from his best friend's mouth and realized it was. . . bitterness. Sasuke's glare deepened as the other froze in place, staring, until a semblance of rationality sprouted in the kyuubi-kid's foam-brain, like a light bulb clicking on. Whatever it was, Naruto saw something on his face, for he chortled and head-butted the pale man, lightly and almost chidingly.

Sasuke wanted to rip his head off.

"You know, you ought to go to her and talk things through," the blond said as the other opened his mouth. "I think, you misunderstood each other."

"I did talk to her," Sasuke said, uncertain in spite of the overwhelming urge to bludgeon the man still gripping him by the collar. "She was perfectly fine with it. And you say she cried."

"Do you love her?" Naruto suddenly asked.

"Why?" the other snapped. "Don't you?"

"This is getting ridiculous."

"… I'm ridiculous?" Sasuke voice turned deathly.

"Well, yeah," came the mild response. "I mean, do you love her in a way that you'd want to bo—"

"Die, you scum."

"_BUILD_." Naruto glared at him. "Do you want to _build_ your clan with her?"

Sasuke merely started at him as if he had grown an extra head.

"Just go to her again and apologize for being stupid and tell her to stop lying. I think you two outdid yourselves this time in this game you're playing, which I'm kinda glad I don't get, after all."

Sasuke, quite frankly, had enough. Why the hell was everyone trying to tell him what to do today? And what that hell is this bastard on, thinking it was all a game?

"So you don't love Hinata-chan?" Naruto seemed to think this a more delicate question, and he said this carefully, watching him with wary eyes.

"This is an arranged match," Sasuke pointed out, tired of expressing surprise at the extent of people's stupidity.

In what reality did people fall in love to people they barely knew over a few weeks' worth of short chats and walking out? For that matter, in what reality was it reasonable to expect a prudent jounin to pick a fight with a foreign jounin, just because, just so he could somehow prove his mettle to his prospective in-laws? The world has lost its collective mind, sending a rehabilitating former missing-nin half a continent away to pick a fight with some random relative of a man long dead, who had attempted to kidnap the girl he was wooing when she was three years old. Apparently, he didn't need to go through specialization counseling because he already had one. You need an avenger? Ding-ding-ding! We have one right here!

"We had a deal," Sasuke finally said. "We had an understanding."

"But if you don't love her, you shouldn't marry her," Naruto said quietly. "She might find someone she does, like you do, and it'll be unfair to her."

"Why? Do you?"

"As much as I feel for an asshole like you." He shrugged with one shoulder. They had almost died together too many times, in some instances at each other's hands, that there was no use skirting around the simple fact. Still, Sasuke had never planned on ever stating that fact, much less hear it from the other guy in an open area just like that.

Instead, he settled with, "You nitwit," and "Your stupidity is really contagious."

"Sasuke, what is your problem?" Naruto asked irritably, sounding almost like a mature teacher scolding a wayward trainee. It was a role-reversal that unmanned the once-avenger. "I'm trying to help you here."

"Help me by letting me get rest," Sasuke said listlessly. "Tell the others I can't drink with them tomorrow. I have a cold."

Naruto allowed him to walk away, only to call after him after a few paces. "Okay, I'll do that, and I'll make sure the guys don't ambush you at home or something. But you need to promise me that you'll talk to Sakura-chan as soon as possible," he said, worry evident in his voice. "I made her promise she'd do something about this. Thinking about it now, it's probably not a smart thing to ask her to do something about something when she's all emotional and shaking-in-her skin pissed."

Shit.

"Um, and don't do it in public, in case she decides to hand your ass to you. You really shouldn't hit a girl, if you can help it."

"Try it," Sasuke suddenly said. "With your Hinata-chan."

"… didn't I just say, you shouldn't hit a girl?"

"You've fit in her world for years. Now try altering the terms in your mind's eye, and ask yourself why it bothers you so much that I'm going to marry her." Sasuke smiled, and it wasn't a pleasant one. "Try asking yourself the idiot questions you just asked me. It's not a total misfit either, is it?"

Naruto goggled at him stupidly. The shock of bemusement has nearly incapacitated him. It gave Sasuke an admittedly fierce pleasure.

"At any rate, it's out of my hands."

Sasuke waved away his friend's half-sputtered questions and flitted away.

Uchiha Avenger, was he?

Guilty as charged.

###

Whatever expectations his kinsmen had of him, Neji didn't feel the need to exert himself just to fulfill them so. As far as he was concerned, it seemed that certain factions of his fragmented family were not willing participants in the effort to hide the truth, after all. Some were actually maneuvering him about to entrap him into a decision point he had only come to recognize as his today. He knew the trap was slowly sliding in place, that his attention wouldn't have been called to it had there already been machinations afoot beyond his knowledge, that it only required a wrong move on his part for it spring.

Neji had a busy week. After discovering the smuggled medical notes that pointed to a binding jutsu in Hinata-sama's heart that incidentally only manifested itself after the debacle with Cloud seventeen years ago, it became obvious that Konoha, that the Hyuuga, was being kept hostage by some constant threat to Hinata's life. Everything pointed to Cloud, from the application of the jutsu on Hinata on her third birthday, to the encounter at Marima, where some substance caused the seal to activate. Neji was no mednin and being that the person who delineated a story using those fragmented notes was not only one but was also the protégé of the Godaime herself, he was inclined to trust her conclusions.

Even with that, there was nowhere else to go without confronting key people. However, he needed something to be able to pin those key people down enough that they would be unable to deny his insinuations. Truth be told, Neji was only expecting a clue or so to be thrown at his feet to appease him. The confession he received this noon had sent him reeling.

The pillow book had been that 'something,' and it was something that he merely stumbled into incidentally. Hinata-sama was reticent the first few days after her falling out with Haruno Sakura. She was withdrawn and icy, polite but detached. There was no use talking to her, so Neji simply sought permission to once again search her personal effects.

He found a note from Hanabi:

_Oneesama,_

_Keep. Your. Paws. Off._

_I mean it._

_The contents of the swirly box is mine, as you've already relinquished claim. In the word of my contemporaries:_

_Sucker_

_Hanabi_

_P.S. You've been getting chunky, too, so it's for your own good._

The only obvious thing that Hanabi could be referring to was the lacquered stone box that Hinata-sama had previously said to have come from her mother. It contained the pillow book that Neji had merely leafed through in the past. Indeed, when he asked Hinata-sama about it, she merely mumbled that Hanabi was referring to, "candy from Amarillo-san," which still didn't make sense. But then she added:

"It does look similar to the candy box."

Why would a candy box from a foreign prince look like an heirloom from Hinata-sama's esteemed mother? Hanabi's attempt at cryptic messages obviously did not pass through the denseness of her older sister, but it seemed she knew more about the connection between those two boxes, and it was something she had taken the pains to try (unsuccessfully) to draw her sister's attention. And if those two boxes had a similar origin…

"You're right," the special operations chief had said as he took a long drag. "This isn't the Ginta family's emblem. But you already know that, right? Otherwise, you wouldn't have brought this to me."

"I understand a suitor's princely gift," Neji replied. "But why would some rare rock from Lightning country be among Hinata-sama's heirloom?"

"Ironic, isn't it?" Shikamaru agreed. "It could simply be among the trinkets exchanged between Cloud and Leaf to portray that everything is peachy between them again?

"And within it a pillow book?"

The shadow-wielder's eyebrows shot for his hairline. "Odd…?"

"Even if it didn't come with the pillow book and that it is indeed something from Hinata-sama's mother, a placating gift from the enemy is an odd place to store it. But the pillow book is another matter."

"You found something interesting in the book?"

The book was written in a dense, flowery language that was so obscurely sexual that it gave Neji a headache reading it. The erotic lessons within were described in a certain, streams of consciousness style that reminded him oddly of one of Tenten's stock characters she pulled out when they were in reconnaissance missions. They were told in dreamy anecdotes that related an encounter between a man and a woman, one encounter per night… the same man each time, Neji thought, judging from the details the writer focused on at a time. In fact, the single-mindedness of the description on a particular part of the anatomy was so obsessive that it could only be called one thing.

"It's almost masturbatory, ne?" Shikamaru, of course, would just say it outright.

"Please tell me I did not read that entire thing for nothing."

"There's definitely a pattern on the word choices." The severe-looking man began pointing out particular kanji. "But it's not a one-dimensional pattern in a sense that it also banks on the context of the given character in that given anecdote. It seems to be either forming a simple message, or could be as sophisticated as a story within a story."

"The plot doesn't follow."

"Which convinces me that this is an incomplete document. We don't know if she agrees and retires to take up with her enthusiastic, over-sexed patron. Come to think of it, the obsessive detail on some of the body parts may be relevant. I'm just wondering if there's a connection there with what you told me about the binding jutsu on Hinata's heart."

"…"

"Whatever this document represents, the transaction remains incomplete. It could be with the other half, but I don't think so. How complicated."

"You'll look at it."

"What else can I do?" came the dour response. "It's masturbatory, like I said, getting a hand at a puzzle like this. . . Sometimes, Neji, you're a scarier visitor than Ino."

Already having too much on his mind, Neji decided to not think about why Nara Shikamaru chose to put the word masturbatory with a statement comparing his visits with Yamanaka Ino's.

That was three days ago, in the office of the special operations chief. Neji had learned more since they last met, and it was time to find out what the elusive dark horse of Konoha had to say about the book. Nara Shikamaru, despite having an office, liked to move around the village and was often found in the unlikeliest of places. That snowy night, he was in a rundown establishment in a not-so reputable sector of the village.

Café in the Shadows befitted its name, being a tiny establishment that welcomed visitors through a crack on the wall. The proprietor had less appropriate innuendos to refer to the narrow doorway, but Neji had ignored his smarmy grin and one-liners. He walked past the makeshift stage where an old man earnestly fondled his guitar and went to the farthest corner of the dimly lit café.

"We're running out of time," he said.

The thin unsmiling man was nursing a bottle of beer, long room temperature now, and a crooked cigarette, on one hand each. The single, severe knot atop his skull kept his hair from his face as he looked down at various pieces of papers laid out in front of him.

"Aa," was all he said, before putting out his cigarette and waving away the last of the smoke. "Women make a big deal about their biological clock, but I'd rather not be running after genins in my dotage, too. Then again, outliving your children's probably depressing."

Neji had pretty much learned to ignore these tangential outbursts. "Did you find out anything new?"

"I wouldn't want to find one of these in my inheritance, that's for sure. The engagement contract is binding and legal in many countries. Since we are part of a number of ententes designed to keep the balance of powers between the existing shinobi nations, we will need to comply with this. Your little princess has a groom somewhere out there, and unless he's already dead, he'll show up at some point, if he wants to stay not dead."

"So you have established that this is an engagement contract?"

"More or less."

"I was told it would break the binding jutsu."

"It's possible. Anyway, this is a promise for blood payment. A life for a life."

"My father—"

"To offset an exchange of corpses."

"It's not an equal exchange."

"No. It's almost an acceptance of guilt. Cloud is offering an able-bodied ninja with an impressive pedigree for our use. There is only one international case that I know of that's documented—in Wind Country, of all places—but this is one of the less savage forms of justice meted out among the elite families of Cloud. Usually, it's pulled out when the family leaders become involved in gross power mongering and are exposed. Their heir is given away as punishment."

"And the caveat?"

"Aa. That blood payment, as with most clan-specific laws in Cloud, is superseded by the Raikage's mandates. So if that child subject to the blood payment becomes specifically promoted to a unique, inner position in the hierarchy of the Kunigakure no Sato government, he/she will pull the other party with him/her. In this case, Hinata will have to be given to the other party."

"A unique, inner position… Like as a candidate in the Ascendency race to find a new Raikage?"

"It's been the talk of their village for more than fifteen years."

"And the escape clause?"

"There is none."

"I was told Hinata-sama must be championed by another, who needs to prove himself better than the Cloud nin."

"By whose standards?" Shikamaru asked. "I didn't hear about that. There's nothing that hints to that in the pillow book. It seems like the woman is thoroughly seduced in the end."

"I thought we've established it's missing the ending."

"It's subject to interpretation."

"You can't make a case to release Konoha from this agreement?"

"…Why didn't you bring this to the appropriate people, like the legal team?" came the irritated response.

"Their budget was resorbed to fund your position."

"Shit."

"…"

"It's not a matter of international law," Shikamaru continued after some musing. "Cloud could make a case about that, though. The problem is the binding jutsu in your cousin and probably also in the Cloud nin that is her counterpart. It's not very likely that the jutsu has a way of identifying who needs to go with whom. It's probably a time sensitive thing that will just go off like a bomb, if its conditions aren't met—in this case, the two would have to be together for an x amount of time, where x can be as long as forever."

"And if Hinata-sama dies?"

"While that's a way out, I'm going to assume it's not a viable option."

"Yukimura Bloodshanks is likely an assassin meant to stop this blood payment, as you call it, from being carried out. Perhaps, the other party is unwilling?"

Shikamaru shrugged. "All I can tell you in addition is that this half of the pact likely contains also just half of a coded jutsu inlaid in the text, as you surmised. We will not be able to extract the unsealing jutsu from the half we have."

"You need to prioritize this."

"I need to prioritize a hundred different things, which really corrupts the word. Besides, isn't Uchiha her suitor or something? Why don't you send him to go champion Hinata, if that really is an option?"

"The Uchiha is—"

Before Neji could elaborate, however, a sharp discordance marred the intricate plucking of the lone guitarist on stage. Neji didn't think it an intelligible language, until he began to pick out creative expletives from the grunts and grumbles of the approaching kunoichi. From a prudent distance behind her, she was tailed by a massive jounin, who had to stoop a bit in order to fit the low ceiling. In turn, he carried a young child, dwarfed by his immense bulk. Only appropriately, the child has both his hands covering his ears.

"You stood me up, you bastard!"

Not that it was any of his business, but Neji could have easily figured out what the kunoichi meant by the statement. There weren't a lot of situations these days that would call for a formal kimono. The lilac and light gold that dominated the floral pattern of the cloth were subdued, elegant, and did not match the flushed, scowling face of the wearer. As she swept a few misplaced tendrils of her carefully arranged hair, Neji noted that Ino's hands were shaking. He stilled his mouth.

"Oi, Neji-kun," came the unhurried drawl of Shikamaru—of course, he would bring Neji into this. "Can you repeat what you just said? About priority one and running out of time?"

"I'm talking to _you_!"

"As it happens—" The special operations chief briefly glanced up from his work. "—there's an international wrinkle forming in the general vicinity, and I've been tasked to deal with it. End of story." He did a double-take that marred his attempt at all-business and blinked up at the wide-eyed child watching him with interest. "Chouji, why is there a baby in here?"

"Baby?" repeated his long-time best friend. "What baby?"

"No baby?" repeated Shikamaru lazily. "So, what's this lump here, then?" He poked the boy on the side, prompting a stifled giggle. "Why haven't you taken care of this lump, Chouji? It could be cancer."

Ino turned, took the child, and handed him to Neji. "Play with Uncle Neji, will you, Mic-chan?" she asked sweetly. "Ino-nee has a pesky business to deal with."

"Hullo," said the boy earnestly. "I'm Michiru. You can call me Mic-chan. Daddy and I were playing the jounin game." He stared curiously at the colorless eyes of the Hyuuga. "What's wrong with your eyes, mister? Did you spill milk in your face? I spill milk on my face, too, but that's because Momma says, I chew on my sippy cup too much."

"…" said Neji.

"I see," whispered Michiru conspiratorially. "So you're playing with us, huh? Let's be iniwible."

For sake of convenience, Neji nodded and returned his attention to the old Team 10, now facing off with grim expressions.

"Ino," Chouji said, uncharacteristically stern. "You dragged me out of my warm home for this, so spill it. Tell him why you're pissed at him all the time. Shikamaru, have you got anything to nibble on?"

His friend merely gave him a long-suffering look. "In case none of you have noticed, I don't have time to deal with all your matchmaking problems. I may not be in my lofty, drafty tower, but I'm still on the clock. Change of scenery keeps me from wanting to jump out the window. Have some humanity."

"You stood me up," Ino spat again.

"Wrong. I did you a favor."

"I don't need your favors. I need you to say it to my face, so I can get on with the rest of my life!"

"I did you a favor," he repeated.

"I don't need you to sell yourself as victim and martyr. I refuse to fool my mother like this. She and Mrs. Nara deserve to hear it from your mouth. You tell them that you have a girlfriend, Shikamaru. You tell them that you'll do right by her at some point, and she'll leave us—me!—alone."

"Does this have to happen here?" muttered the darkhorse.

Ino's face turned a shade darker, as she inhaled sharply to prepare for another barrage of words.

"Okay, fine." Her childhood friend cut off her outburst. "Unfortunately, I don't have a girlfriend, so I can't say that. The only things I can do for you are to stall and be difficult. As you know, my mother doesn't take no for an answer. I'd rather not hear screaming, and it seems like my efforts are useless, since I'm getting it from you, anyway."

"But Temari-san—!"

"Is not my girlfriend." Shikamaru had fully abandoned his work at this point and was staring up at the blonde curiously. "Is this why you're so fixated on Temari? What do you want to ask her that you can't ask to my face?"

"What's the use?" If anything, Ino seemed to become more upset at this, her blue eyes blazing as she stared down the unruffled jounin. "What's the use of that, Shikamaru? Do you actually respect me enough to give an answer that doesn't pretty much equate to 'go fuck yourself?'"

"Mic-chan? Put your hands back over your ears, kiddo." Shikamaru shook his head. "I dated Temari for two years. It didn't work out, so we broke it off. She's not making an issue of it, neither am I, and it's not affecting our working relationship. Why should you care?"

Chouji, however, was seeing the conversation from another angle. "So you're saying, Ino, that you think Shikamaru has a girlfriend, and that's why you're making such a big deal over your parents' suggestion?"

"It wasn't just a suggestion," Ino huffed. "It was phrased as highly encouraged, which means we do it or else."

"And you, Shikamaru," continued the heavy-boned ninja. "You think digging your heels would make your mothers just throw their hands, give up, and stick it to your pigheaded nature?"

"Pigheaded?"

""And you're doing it because you think Ino hates the idea but she can't say no."

"I don't _hate_ the idea," the blond clarified, practically bristling. "I just didn't want to be the default choice or something, just because someone was being a pighead."

"Isn't that what I am?" Shikamaru asked, looking at her, his hands tented under his chin. "I don't dislike the idea. I don't dislike you. I think you're excitable and troublesome, but that applies to women in general. If I have to settle down, and I do—it's an inescapable duty—I'd prefer someone already familiar."

"Oh. So I'm not just default; I'm also convenient?" The kunoichi's voice reached a dangerous register. "That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"I'm not trying to make you feel better, Ino." Shikamaru shook his head in irritation, but maintained eye contact with his irate friend. "I'm giving it to you as it is. Is that a bad thing?"

"Yes, it is. Because I want something else!"

"And I don't. This is fine with me. You call it being the default. I call it convenience, familiarity, and comfort. I call it having something to keep me grounded and normal. This is home for me. Is that wrong?"

Ino stared at him.

"No, I'm not, as you say, fucking with your head. Why don't you consider that angle, Ino. Don't 'martyr' yourself for my sake if you can't stomach the idea of being married to me. If so, you tell them no."

Ino sputtered in a sudden spike of self-righteous anger. "Wait just a minute, you!" she screeched. "Weren't you the one being difficult for months now?"

He shrugged. "I thought about it. We can start with baby steps. How about an unexciting conversation without any hint of intention to kill or maim? Say, over dinner at your apartment? No parentals. No ceremonies. None of that affinity crap."

Ino sputtered some more.

The little boy, who had been looking on the argument with interest, and had long dropped the hands over his ears, patted Neji on the cheek kindly. "Uncle, it's okay," he whispered. "Daddy said, they're not really fighting, just testing their afty. Uncle, what's afty?"

Yes, Neji realized that a few verbal exchanges back. Quite frankly, he was sick and tired of this game he's been forced to watch over and over… different cast, same idiotic story. He didn't say so aloud, but instead returned the kind pat of the little boy.

"If this conversation is over," Neji coolly said. "I want to resume mine and go home before the snow storm gets worse."

The others gaped at him as if the world was ending just because he made references to the weather.

"Permanently closing it in two minutes, Neji," Shikamaru assured. Then he made a face. "You know what I mean. Let's talk about it later, Ino. I have a to-do list; let me strike out a couple of things… I take it, you don't need to meet with Temari, anymore?"

"What?" Ino exclaimed, regained her senses momentarily. "This and that has nothing to do with each other! These are dark times for the Clique and as strong allies, our chapters need to gather and support each other through this hardship."

Shikamaru threw an exasperated look to the ceiling and shook his head.

"We don't understand, Ino," Chouji translated.

"Mother died two days ago. Her child survived, but she didn't."

"Whose mother?"

"The Clique's!"

"Who is she again?" came the tight question of Neji, who already knew the answer, but needed the confirmation so he could start planning for the worst.

"Sanada Meiro is dead."

Shikamaru whistled. "Looks like we _are_ running out of time."

"No," Neji pronounced grimly. "We are out time. All the situation needs is one wrong move to detonate."

"But there's still Sasuke, right? Unless…"

"… we can't rely on him as a safety net."

Neji returned Michiru to his father.

"I need to go. I'm afraid I made the same mistake as you, Nara Shikamaru, as did the Hyuuga clan and Haruno Sakura. Subtlety is a harder sword to manage than it seems."

###

The slight tightness in stomach, coupled with a certain fluttering that came and went unexpectedly, made Hinata realize that the piping hot apple crumb, fresh from the oven, was actually about five hours ago now. She hadn't eaten in that interim, after dinner was pushed to eight o'clock, and then to nine. She wasn't sure what was happening, but she was under the impression that the family had visitors. The messenger wasn't very enlightening, but she took it as a sign that she wasn't found out yet.

Hinata felt it deep in her bones. She was in very big trouble with the Hyuuga elders. Never mind that she said no to the proposal of one Uchiha Sasuke, as of late the favored suitor of the Hyuuga family for their heiress, but the fact that she acted without consultation from anybody else was going to be the hot topic, as soon as they found out. But see, she wasn't sure when exactly all hell would break loose. Sasuke-san didn't exactly tell her what the next steps would be. She supposed it was in part her fault, too, for it seemed like, Sasuke was well-resigned to simply getting on with it.

And this is why, despite having an impending feeling of doom hovering over her head, Hinata felt oh-so-much better and quite giddy, actually.

It was amazing—days, weeks, -worth of self-reflection was undone by a single daydream. Sasuke took her explanation in the end, after any number of sarcastic rejoinders, but she had a feeling none in her family would have the same outlook. Neji-nii took it impassively, and she wasn't sure whether to take this as a positive or a negative reaction. He did, however, readily agree to her request. When she asked him for the information he had been gathering all this time without her help, he seemed… gratified?

Neji-nii left and returned with Sakura-san's basket, the one she gave when she told Hinata they couldn't be Clique buddies anymore, the basket of recipes and bath salts that Neji had borrowed last week. Hinata had stared at it in trepidation, the feelings of rejection and an uneasing ache cresting in her suddenly. It was bravado, earlier, that allowed her to laugh when Neji-nii suggested she ask Sakura-san for another batch of snickerdoodles.

"Your friend has given you priceless gifts," was all he said. Then, he asked Hinata to stay, as he had urgent business. He would return with better explanations.

The statement actually scared her. What did Neji mean? Did that mean, she had spent an entire week wallowing on her disappointment and despair at losing a friend and it was all for naught? It took a whole hour before Hinata was finally brave enough to search the basket.

The rolled up bunch of recipes was a good start, she figured. She had already gotten some of them from Neji-nii earlier in the week, but perhaps, there were more interesting ones she could try out.

She saw the notes.

She saw the patient explanation penciled lightly amidst the unfamiliar terminologies.

Hyuuga Hinata did not f finish the entire sheaf of handwritten notes, much less have a chance to process the information she was given by the friend, who just a week ago, confessed that she couldn't stand being friends with her anymore. Before she could figure out what it all meant, a visitor was announced. While she didn't recognize the name, the man that entered was unremarkable, clean-cut, and quietly handsome. His face was unmistakably familiar and one she didn't think she'd see so soon.

It seemed she asked Neji-nii for information a little too late.

End 00:57 030311

Egads. I am so dead.

Thanks again to mikochan-noda for her amusing comments full of yaoisms and SSS and kind feedback.

The first two parts were largely based on drafts written back in 2004 (particularly the first part), so it was challenging to make it fit without changing the essence too much. They basically defined the (flimsy) bases of the fic.

In the end, I thought, "Ah, screw it." Here ya go. (grovels)

Thank you for reading, the comments, and the faves.


	22. Chapter 21: On the Subject of Explosives

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Kishimoto Masashi, etc. Only borrowing the series and characters for entertainment. No monetary gain

**Chapter 21: On the Subject of Explosives**

The scene was reminiscent of countless ones that have unfolded in Konoha's administrative complex from over ten, fifteen, years ago: a troublemaker streaked through the hallways with irate officials pounding after him. In place of a brat, grinning as he left a trail of destruction, was now a jounin, panicked, though not by his pursuers.

The Godaime Hokage-sama was melancholic. Between the peep of a moon that managed to slip through the clouds still icing the landscape outside and the somber conversation she was having over tea, she was feeling a half-century's worth of listlessness. Her mood was rent by the slamming of the doors against the walls—the same ones that just yesterday were repaired and had cost her an afternoon nap.

"Oi, Baba!" bellowed her guest. "I've come back like you—" As if remembering a recent trauma, the young man was reduced to an ojou-sama, hiding behind her paper fan. "Um, uh… Tell me when you're, uh, decent and I'll open my eyes."

Honestly. Tsunade-hime regarded the tensed jounin. She got no respect at all in this place. No respect whatsoever. Not for the first time, she wondered why she had allowed the snot-nose in front of her to drag her back to this backward town and let a bunch of constipated geezers to saddle her with such responsibility. Not to mention the retirement plan sucked, as exemplified by her esteemed predecessor—if your successor happened to get chewed on by a loosed demon, you get to take over again. Really, disgusting.

"Hokage-sama," spoke her sinfully gorgeous tea partner, a vision of sweet comfort after his long, much-rued absence. "I'll handle this."

"Do," Tsunade said drily. "I think we've had enough of your so-called narration."

Her cowed, but still comely, companion ignored this. "Called up the carpet again, huh, Naruto? I guess, hoping you changed over a month or so was too much ask, wasn't it?"

Naruto calmed down for a few heartbeats and opened his eyes to look at the one-eyed wrinkle of a smile from underneath a gray mop.

"Kakashi-sensei!" he exclaimed, happily enough, it seemed, but not enough to distract him from the problem at hand. "Welcome back, sensei. Oi, baba, about that thing we talked about last time…"

To her credit, Hokage-sama waited a full minute before getting tired of the young man's sudden muteness.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she suggested.

"You know it!" the blond insisted, bristling as he shifted his legs. "You remember that you kicked me out of the window—I still feel like there's a piece of glass stuck on a buttcheek."

"You need to give me a specific time frame. My foot is so acquainted with your ass, I can't tell anymore when they last met. Well?"

"It's that thing about Hinata-chan, geeze!"

"What thing about Hinata? Spit it out, boy!"

"You told me to come back when I have an argument—I'm back!"

Tsunade considered this, placated by the young man's mien. "Okay, I'll probably regret it, daring to get my hopes up. Go on, boy."

Hatake Kakashi watched the boy flounder, not unlike his first whack at barehanded fishing as a genin. See, Naruto wasn't a fool, as foolish as he acted at times. He didn't lack brain cells, but he wore his emotions like a reflective vest—I'm here! Look at me! In all the years Kakashi has handled the kid, Naruto had never overdone reflection before action.

But, no, he was no fool.

"I tried it like Sasuke said," the boy confessed. "And I… I liked it."

The jounin sensei deflated a bit.

"I kinda felt like a pervert at first, but thinking about other people doing it pissed me off. So… you're going to stop it?"

"… is this the point," the Godaime asked, "where I make conclusions and give you blunt advice that will prevent you from looking at me in the eye till you die?"

Naruto didn't get that.

"What did you try that Sasuke liked?"

"Not Sasuke, baba! I did. I liked it!"

The Hokage started to make strangling noises then. Kakashi decided he needed to cut in, as not only did he not know what to do with a person stroking out, but that Tsunade-sama not being able to keep up the glamour that kept her youthful appearance was reportedly a horrible thing to witness. The boy wouldn't balk at explaining himself, anyway; he just needed direction. (For what it's worth, his logic, if not infallible, was entertaining.)

"Naruto," Kakashi said, trying for the world-polished advisor angle. "Let's start from the top. You came to Hokage-sama before to ask her to do something for you. She said no and for you to come back when you have a convincing argument. Now, you're telling her you did something Sasuke suggested and you liked it. We don't get the connection."

"Oh. Yeah, well, Sasuke's gonna marry Hinata, right?"

"That was the idea."

"They don't exactly like the idea, but they don't hate it."

"But you hate it." Naruto frowned at the skepticism in his sensei's voice, but did not interrupt. "So what did you try with Sasuke, that you liked but he didn't?"

"No, no. He doesn't seem to have an opinion one way or another about Hinata-chan, but when I was asking about Sakura, he got all pissy."

Any number of off-color remarks entered the jounin-sensei's head, but he resisted further aggravating his ultimate commander. "Naruto-kun, do us a favor and tell us what this "something" is. We're kinda just imagining dirty stuff right now."

"Speak for yourself," Hokage-sama muttered.

"Well," the boy said. "I finally caught up to Sasuke to shake out his plans from his usual flat face. Only he has a cold right now, so he doesn't look as flat. He told me to ask myself the same questions I just asked him."

"Sounds like you've had a confusing night," Kakashi said, sounding sympathetic.

"Tell me about it." Naruto stopped pacing before the Godaime's desk and turned a stymied face to his elders. "I know how I feel, Kakashi-sensei. I just can't say it."

"I thought as much. Shall we start with the questions you asked Sasuke?"

"I asked him if he really intended to marry Hinata-chan. He said yes."

"Naruto, do you really intend to marry Hinata?"

"No." The response was clipped, was followed by a huff. Naruto rubbed his nape and resumed pacing. "I mean, if I had to, I wouldn't mind."

"Okay." The sensei sighed and decided to take a less blunt route. "What do you think that means?"

"I don't know. I haven't really gone anywhere after that. Just that, Hinata-chan is Hinata-chan, you know? I suppose it's not hard to think of her as wifey. She's the sweetest person in the world, even more than that obaachan next door who used to make me pancakes for breakfast every June 1st—she thought it was my birthday.

"Hinata-chan's apple pie and ramen, and rainy days, and long walks… and she won't yell—probably—even if do something stupid, which will make me feel sorrier than if I had gotten yelled at. Even just being quiet together is as great as telling her stories, but that's probably the being wet and cold talking, 'cause when she listens…"

His voice dwindled to incomprehensible. "I didn't get that," Kakashi said. "Come again?"

"…er, like the world's is, too," the boy stammered.

"Okay."

"But you know, I'm not husband-y at all, so that would suck for her."

"I'm starting to have hope for you," Hokage-sama said.

"I can be a cool husband, too, i thought. But I couldn't think of how I'd do that exactly, and I started hyperventilating. I came here, so Baba can help me not die."

"Or help you along from the looks of it," Kakashi said, scratching at the stubble of sideburns he had tried and failed to grow. "What did you ask him next?"

"After that, I asked him what about Sakura-chan? Like I said, he got pissy, as if it's obvious, and don't I love her, too? I finally figured then that he was being pissy because he thought Sakura liked me. Long story short, I told him they were probably not talking properly again, and that he's stupid, but I didn't say that exactly because I didn't have time to get into a real good fight.

"Then I asked him if he loved Hinata-chan—wait, wait, I asked him if he loved Hinata-chan last. I asked him if he wanted to bone—I mean, build! Build his clan with Sakura-chan."

"Well, do you?"

"Huh?"

"Do you want to bone Sakura-chan?"

Naruto turned sheet-white, so Kakashi concluded that it was an off-limits thought. Translation: if he tried, he'd be worse than dead.

"Who would go around boning people randomly?" the boy sputtered instead. "And I asked build! Build!"

"You do have to do one thing first to be able to do the other, you know." Kakashi shrugged. "So you think Hinata-chan wouldn't be as averse to the idea of _building_ with you?"

Naruto turned alternating colors of red, white, and gray.

"Aa."

"W-what does that 'aa,' mean?" the mortified boy demanded.

"Why don't we start with something simple?" Kakashi had a lot of practice on this, reading the Icha-Icha series, and falling back to analyzing everything from character and plot development to word choices, while waiting for the next installment to be released. "So I know now that you're attracted to both of them. However, the idea of Sakura-chan breaking your neck if you tried keeps you from pursuing that attraction—"

The younger man opened his mouth to protest.

"That, and the man-crush thing you and Sasuke have going on."

The poor boy almost seized. Kakashi shook his head. How long was he supposed to deal with this denial thing again?

"So then what keeps you from acting on your attraction to Hinata?"

His student's eyes widened even further, till the whites swallowed most of the blue. Kakashi realized that this wasn't even an off-limits thought; it used to be non-existent until he asked it.

"Keep it concrete, Kakashi," Tsunade advised. "Or you're going to have to scrub brain matter off my floor."

"Okay," the masked man conceded with a sigh. "Forget about getting married right now. Let's pretend you're a kid at the academy. Hinata-chan confesses to you. Will you go steady with her?"

"I guess?"

"How about now?"

The boy hesitated. "Are we pretending she asked me this time, too?"

"He's chicken shit," Tsunade decided.

"I know," Naruto growled. "I know I'm chicken shit. It's just that she's my friend. And… Well, look at Sasuke and Sakura. They're so messed up between that friends and not-friends thing, it breaks my brain thinking about it."

"Those two are at a whole other dimension, the gods help them. You're considerably more normal in this department."

"Thank you? But see, Baba, isn't it normal I don't want to ruin something? I mean, I think I know that Hinata-chan and I have something going. I mean, we're super tight but it's not like how Kakashi-sensei is saying about going steady and hot girls."

"So you think Hinata's the wifey type," Kakashi clarified, "but she's not hot enough to mess around with or be girlfriend material?"

"You don't make every hot girl you run into your girlfriend, sensei!"

"So you think," the Hokage muttered.

"And I'll gut the bastard who tries to mess around with her!"

Kakashi ignored that. "So you don't think she's hot?" he pressed.

"She is!" Naruto ran a frustrated hand through his damp hair. "And that was part of the reason I was freaking out, but I'm a guy. So what?"

Kakashi shrugged.

"I mean, it's wrong to think about your friend that way, so I try not to, but it's not like I can't notice. The Prince guy was talking about Hinata-chan while she was splashing around at Chanting falls with the genins. He was something else, sizing up her boobs and hips, and talking about stuff like carrying babies, and using flowery words and all… I called him a pervert and he said I'm the pervert for thinking it pervy to admire a girl like that. Or I think that's what he said."

Naruto paused, steeped in his confusion, then resumed unwillingly.

"Okay, so maybe I do like her that way. Do I have to do something about it? What if I want to leave it alone?"

"Will you keep freaking out every time you think she—or her family—has finally found the one?"

Naruto tugged on a whisker in irritation. "I'm not freaking out."

"Let's say you tell her you like her like that, and she doesn't like you back that way, would you stop being friends with her?"

"'Course not." There was no hesitation in the answer. "It's not her fault she doesn't like me like that. I might stay away for a bit, because it'll be embarrassing… and it'll hurt… but we'll be friends."

"What else did you ask Sasuke?"

"Nothing else, but he asked me to change how I look at her in my head… and that doesn't it fit, too?" Naruto crossed his arms, brows scrunched. "And like I said, when he said that, I remembered what Prince said, about her being made to be a mother and I thought that was random, but not really weird. Does that make sense?"

"Naruto-kun," Kakashi drawled, his single eye crinkling. "At this point, I'll be happy if you make sense out of even one thing in that flight of fancy you just puked on us. Make your sensei proud and please say something that will not make Tsunade-sama try to kill you."

"Well," Tsunade asked after a moment's silence, the warning in her voice clear. "Have you reached a sensible conclusion, boy? You came back here and I just tolerated a recitation of your rambling, semi-coherent thought process. I feel violated, quite frankly, and dumber for having listened to it. Talk!"

"Godaime." The sensei's voice was chiding. "Listen, kiddo. I don't want you to think I'm leading you on with these questions. If it helps, forget about it all, and just tell me: what are you thinking?"  
"What am I thinking?" Naruto echoed. He touched his lips, as he considered the question. "Actually, I've been thinking about the day I ran into Hinata-chan after her dad decided she needed to stop being ninja for a bit."

"Aa."

"Hinata-chan was sad, of course, but I think she was pissed, too. She had her usual wrinkle here." Naruto touched his forehead. "I poked her, and then, her eyes squished shut, and she just lost it."

"To laughter, you mean?"

"Yeah." Naruto snickered at the memory. "You know how when you dribble soy sauce on broth, and the color just sits in that spot for a few, then spirals out sneakily? Her cheeks were like that then. I remember.

"And you know how Hinata-chan gets this expression on her face, like she's waiting for something she doesn't want to come? But when she laughs, she forgets for a bit. And it's just her whole face, all of her, changes like whoa! It's like taking the lid off the pot and getting all that steam and yumminess on your face.

"Maybe I'm full of myself, but I want to be the only guy in the world who can do that. It's not just laughing—even Sasuke made her laugh, did you know that? It's her shrugging off all the weight of the Hyuuga and being just… Hinata-chan. I want to be the one to know Hinata-chan when she is Hinata-chan the most. If that means I need to go steady with her, I'll do that."

"… it took you a long while to come to that," Kakashi said, his manner kind after letting the boy to stew for eternity and a minute. "So now you understand that coming to grips to these things won't be any easier for Sasuke, right?"

"Yeah and that you have favorites," Naruto sniffed. "I get it. I'll cut him some slack."

"Hokage-sama's still waiting for that winning argument, though."

"Well, obviously, I can't try going steady with Hinata-chan if she's already married." The boy was sullen as he squatted before the Hokage's desk. "What else do you want me to say? I don't want Hinata-chan to get married. At least, not yet, and not to just some random person her family thinks will be useful to Hyuuga world domination, or whatever they're plotting."

"You know." His teacher blithely broke the dramatic pause post Naruto's pronouncement. "This is the most unromantic confession I've ever had the misfortune to witness, but I think it's a breakthrough. Hokage-sama?"

"That's all very well and good," Tsunade said. "But my hands are tied in this case."

Naruto snorted. "You're the Godaime Hokage, baba."

"I'm Godaime Hokage because the law says I am. If I overstep my bounds, I'll be subverting the very laws that give me authority. The Main house has announced Hyuuga Hinata's engagement. The Hokage cannot interfere in a clan matter like this."

"What?"

"You heard me. She's getting married before the year ends."

Without another word, the young man turned on his heels and ran. This time, his teacher thought ironically, none of his pursuers would even catch a glimpse of his shadow.

"Hokage-sama," Kakashi ventured after a few minutes of silence. "You messed up, didn't you?"

"Shut up," growled the woman some laud to be most beautiful in the world. "This is a Hyuuga problem. They're going to take care of this, the idiots. And you said so yourself, they're not children, anymore."

"I sure hope you're trusting the right people."

". . . when I think about the S-class missions I have and will be authorizing assignment to that boy, I feel faint."

Kakashi chuckled. "Aw, you don't mean that, Hokage-sama."

"Try me."

"So you really won't intervene?"

"The Godaime Hokage will not intervene."

###

"No, Dad!" it sounded like, and he was half-embarrassed, half-relieved to hear it. The initial three jabs to his face were not followed by more there or elsewhere. His jarred brain recovered and registered the ache of his face. He touched a cheek gingerly—no matter how much inhuman power a person amassed in a lifetime, the human body responded to injury with pain, often disproportionate to the actual damage acquired. Right then, he didn't have enough adrenaline in his blood to make him ignore his pain receptors.

"Get him out of my sight before I do something you'll hate me for," Haruno Kido barked at his daughter. That wasn't very likely to happen, Sasuke thought, but he held his tongue. He looked instead at the daughter, who avoided his eyes, grabbed him by an arm, and led him into her house.

There was no sign of the tears Naruto had accused him of causing. In fact, Sakura seemed to have stepped fresh out of the shower, her pink hair damp and smelling of some tropical fruit. However, judging from the greeting of her father, Sasuke dourly concluded that the dobe wasn't making things up. He felt compelled to address it. ('That's the sort of things friends do,' flitted across his mind, but the line was getting worn out at that juncture.)

He wasn't sure why he had ended up in the Haruno home for the second time that day. He had himself showered and readied for a long-overdue rest, when he was summoned. After he took care of that, he found himself standing in front of her door, evidently having walked there in abstraction. To his defense, he regained his senses before he actually knocked. Unfortunately, Sakura's father had already seen him through the windows and had flown out of the kitchen to pick a fight in the slush.

Presently, Sakura stopped before the stairway to the second floor and yanked his coat off.

"Out of those," she said, pointing to his pants. "Out! Now!"

Unperturbed, he pulled off his standard cargo pants to reveal a pair of dark blue pajamas. She might have sighed in relief but he couldn't tell for sure, as she was already halfway up to her room. He followed her, sat on her bed, and took the ice pack she offered.

"I can't believe Daddy drew blood," she muttered, examining the laceration on his temple. With the hood of his coat no longer catching it, the blood had trickled down his face and neck. "Heaven forbid your pretty face scars—it's the only thing people find tolerable about you."

So far, he had been manhandled and verbally abused. The dobe had to be smoking something to seriously suggest that this woman is—

"Sasuke-kun, lie on my bed and close your eyes."

… Damn that Naruto, anyway. Damn him and damn the power of suggestion.

"Oh, don't be such a baby!" Sakura was puttering about her dresser. She unearthed some gauze, which she pressed against his wound. "I'm just going to repair the cut with chakra. No needles, and it's less likely to scar."

He lay down at the foot of her half-made bed, daring her to comment when she opened her mouth. She didn't, likely more because of the pinking gauze on his head, rather than the stony expression on his face. She grabbed her rolling chair, positioned herself beside his head, and went to work.

"Incidentally," she said, breaking the lengthening silence. "Thank you for not hitting back my father."

He raised an eyebrow in response, tempted to speak. The fact that he was at a disadvantage, position-wise, dissuaded him.

"I apologize for his behavior," she continued. "I think he may have misunderstood something.

"Evidently, he has more of a clue about what just happened than I do," Sasuke said without humor. "The dobe said you're a liar."

There was no change to the occupied furrow of her brow. "Is that so," was all she said, as she continued to stimulate the slow, steady regrowth of his broken flesh.

"He even thinks we're playing a game. I'm not playing anything. Are you?"

"Is that what you came here for this time?" Her tone was mild, cajoling even.

"I came to see what you can do about my cold." Who was she kidding? He had more practice at this expressionless thing than she had. "You were asleep earlier, so I've came back. Any truths uncovered are incidental. Are you done?"

She sat him up.

"Thank you. The congestion is gone."

"It's a simple trick," she said. He thought he saw her expression crumble, but when he looked again, the mednin Haruno was back. "Is that all?"

"I also learned something useful in my otherwise pointless mission this week."

"Hmm." She began examining him again, he supposed, for his complaint of cold.

"The unnamed status you've sought for years now takes most mednins a lifetime to reach," he accused.

"And people wonder why?" She laughed. "Have they seen with whom I've been hanging out recently? You and Naruto are stellar role-models on keeping obsessive goals, you know."

"The title itself is secret to the society of mednins, but when spoken, it confers to the bearer access to biomedical information without restrictions, without regard to any socio-political borders."

"That sounds more fantastic than a cure-all serum," she quipped. "Open your mouth."

He had to wait for her to finish looking down his throat before he could continue his accusations. "Most governments, much more with hidden villages, are reluctant to share what they know of Orochimaru's immortality studies."

"Your throat is red but has no pustules," she said. "I think that's just from irritation from the post-nasal drip."

Sasuke ignored her assessment. "You have a breathing specimen right here," he said, staring at her intently, as if it could break her slightly smiling mask with just that. "Why are you so rushed to get rid of this patient?"

"It's just a cold, Sasuke. You'll be fine."

"You regurgitate speeches about friendship and social support systems all the time. I'm pretty sure you don't want me out of your life that badly. You scoff every time I suggest you teach someone else to deal with the curse seal, so what the hell was that about earlier, hammering down protocols and not wanting to see me off hours?"

In spite of herself, she glared at him and side-stepped the question. "I'm glad those sermons served some purpose, but right now, I think I'd rather you leave than stay and be bad-tempered."

"Were you trying to win me?" he guessed. "Save the princess trapped in a tower, concoct the antidote, and wake her up? So when the princess decides to get up and walk away you just let her?"

The mednin stared at him in a mixture of horror and shame. That, however, was quickly replaced by indignation. "What are you implying, Sasuke?"

"Just because I don't indulge in fantasy doesn't mean I don't get it. You think playing 'nice,' gives you license to moon around feeling sorry for yourself?"

"You are so full of it!"

"I could say the same about you." He sneered. In passing, he figured it would have had more impact if his nose wasn't running. "You drop the martyr act."

"The martyr act?" She shot to her feet, her hands finding her hips as she stared him down. "You think I'm staging a show here? You don't think I have the right or the capacity to work towards something, even something as microcosmic as your metabolism problem? Sorry for not aiming for something more earthshaking, but this is all this lowly one can manage."

"You can't bluff your way out of this one," he managed before he had to turn away to blow his nose. The words had the intended effect, however, for in her fury, she lost her train of thought and simply stood there, mouth ajar. Had she been banking on his disinterest in human interaction and didn't think he knew? Now that it was out in the open, her orchestrated reaction was slightly insulting.

"I, for your information, am not doing this for you," she enunciated. "I have baggage, too, from five years ago. It may not be as deep-rooted or brain-breaking as yours or Naruto's, but I have to work through them just as carefully and steadily. If you choose to wallow in your own misery—"

"You'll let me waste away in my own muck?"

"What?" That caught her off guard. "Of course, I won't!" She sounded exasperated, but her face retained the icy calm. "Just… Just understand that my trying to find an effective treatment for your curse seal is part of my job, as well as my own baggage. I'm doing this for myself."

"Let me do something for you, then," he proposed. "Let me pay for your services, Dr. Haruno. I can't keep taking advantage of you, after all."

She swallowed. Something passed across her green eyes, a shuddering moment of vulnerability, and then the agate in them returned.

"I need you to understand that this isn't some charity work," she said when she regained control of herself. "This is me working for my goals. This is you simply benefiting, by chance. And I'm sorry you haven't found new goals, Sasuke, but don't displace your frustrations on me. Don't attack me!"

"Who says I don't have new goals?" He inched closer, smiling what he felt was a predatory smile.

"W-what are you doing?" Her voice hitched, reached for breaking point as she realized he wasn't taking her seriously still. She was wrong, of course. After all this time, Sasuke felt that he finally understood her motives. He took her very seriously.

Wasn't he risking life and limb here?

"Don't!" she yelped, shutting his nearing face from her line of vision. "Whatever you're planning, don't! I don't need you to do anything. I don't need your misplaced pity or… or… or payment. Whatever the hell you call it, you just stop!"

And then her voice did break.

"Please, Sasuke. Of all things, don't make me feel like a whore."

And just because he knew it ticked her off when he threw advices and what-not right back at her: "Shut up and don't be such a baby."

He felt her pucker up, as if encountering something sour. When he opened his eyes and drew away just enough to look at her, he saw her scowling at his ear. Her nose flared. Her jaws were clenched to push back sobs that instead manifested on her trembling shoulders. Hers was a rage held back, and it wasn't directed at him. Hers was an anger fueled by pride, anger over some weakness she perceived in herself, some mistaken notion that her imagined weakness made her ill-deserving of all that she had achieved.

How long has it been, really, since he honestly thought this woman weak?

"What payment?" he said half to himself. "You're a glutton for punishment, woman, but as long as you remember what you just said, you'll survive me."

Her glare deepened impossibly. "Survive you, what?"

That was all he allowed her, however.

He let go.

###

Haruno Sakura, if she'd say so herself, was quite smart. If she applied herself, it rarely took her more than a minute or so to take stock of a situation. She wasn't dropping in on the middle of a business negotiation, so she was quite startled to find herself so flummoxed—at least, the last remaining bastion of rationality in her was. That Sakura, after picking her jaw from the floor, was busy scratching her head, trying to navigate the convolutions of the conversation that just passed. Rational Sakura wasn't making much headway, however, because all the thinking was being drowned out by the ecstatic wolf-whistles of one Inner Sakura.

_Just imagine all the 'firsts' you can plan on celebrating this New Year. Or not plan for—who knew his type of stodgy had a spontaneous side after all. _

_. . . Wait. Whoa._

Even Inner Sakura had to shut up when Sasuke shifted, burying her deeper into the sagging mattress and the fluff of her comforter. The subtle movement redistributed his body weight over certain parts of her body that were a) more responsive to the touch, and b) effectively cutting off air exchange. She pushed him away, if only to get more oxygen, but he eluded her in a twist she couldn't follow. His mouth landed on her forehead.

This lent her a moment of clarity. It was wasted on wondering what he was going to do next.

_What are you doing_? demanded Rationale Sakura. _There was an opening!_

But the man draped over her had moved on after giving that one, chaste kiss. His lips grazed her nose as it traveled to her chin and applied more of those little kisses along her jawbone.

He had to stop, she managed to decide. He had to stop right now before her entire brain denatures.

"Sasuke," she said.

Her palm was on his forehead, hyperextending his neck, while her other hand was yanking on his cheek, distorting his face.

"You're feverish!" she squawked. "You should know better, what with my regularly scheduled sermons on keeping hydrated and basic first aid. Geeze."

He rolled his eyes, angled his head to her hold, and basted her inner wrist with his tongue. She yelped, wriggling away from the searing touch, and enabled him to put away her meddlesome arms, up, over her head. He paused, as if to admire his captive, and then returned to nipping. Sakura tried for indignation, but her speech disintegrated against the waves of sensory information that competed for her attention.

His hair was wet, she realized, giddy from forming a thought, and it was not from rolling around the snow when her father attacked him. Sasuke used a super old shampoo brand that's been around for at least a century and an even older soap brand that local lumberjacks liked to use. As a result, he smelled like the old-fashioned generation of grandpas who prided themselves on their manliness—no fancy named herb or tropical fruit scent for them. He smelled clean and awfully respectable and not the type who would force his clean, newly washed body on the clean, newly washed body of a nubile girl.

_Drug store shampoo and old geezer soaps are turn-offs_, Rational Sakura reminded.

_Not on this one, _promised Inner Sakura_. Are you turned off?_

_I so am._

_Liar._

_Not to mention, he's using that uber spicy mouthwash nobody likes because it's so spicy you can't taste anything for an hour after you brush your teeth. _

_Oh please! It was on sale for dirt cheap last month, wasn't it?_

_Yes, and now I know why it ran out after two days. There's an important reason for us to stop, and I need your part of the brain to make us stop kissing back!_

"Apricots," Sasuke's husky pronouncement interrupted her train of thought.

"What?" she huffed stupidly, feeling even more stupid when she realized he wasn't half as breathless as she was—and he had a cold! And what was up with the laced-with-triumph tone thing? Apricots!

"Shampoo," he said. "Your toothpaste: Princess Patch, Strawberry-guava flavor."

The mednin flushed, realizing he was making the same assessments as she was, even as he worked to suffocate her with his mouth.

_Turn on much?_ Inner Sakura crowed. _What do you think?_

_Pupils dilated, cheeks flushed, breathing quickening._ Rational Sakura was true to her name. _I'd say yes._

_Yes! Now, say something before he thinks we're catatonic!_

"I have sensitive teeth."

He ignored that and dipped his head low. His lips trained across her collarbone, the fever-dried skin abrasive against her sensitive one. The sensation changed to hot and wet when his tongue darted out to sample the depression at the base of her neck. Then he headed south, past the folds of her mussed up shirt.

"S-sasuke," she babbled, unable to come up with a reason why he shouldn't head that way. In desperation, she redirected his face to hers once more, ignoring his chagrin.

She kissed him a little clumsily, forcibly deeper than any of his forays so far. This seemed to distract him from his path, stilling even his errant hands. (Notice that there was no mention of his toes, knees, or abdominal flexors. Neither of the Sakuras had the guts to confront that facet of the situation yet, and by consensus, refused to qualify any movements originating below his nipple line.) Competition came naturally to this man, after all, and he returned the press of her tongue and then some. It was obviously a challenge, though for what she wasn't sure.

Unfortunately, it distracted her, too, and she seemed to have forgotten why it was important for them to stop…

"Sakura-chan!" came the alarum. "The Godaime said—!"

Ah, the Godaime.

Even with the reminder, she was still slow to respond. It was Sasuke who reluctantly broke from her, rolling to his side to glare at the newcomer.

Naruto stared back, mouth open.

Sakura's mind took a moment too long to piece this scenario together, as it would look from her old friend's vantage point.

"Oh, good god," she said when she did, wiping her face with the back of a hand as she righted her clothing. "Shishou sent you to get me, didn't she? Is she furious?"

Naruto ignored her.

"This is the last place I expected you," the blond jounin said levelly. "Doing that." He glanced at their pink-haired teammate.

"Wait a minute!" she sputtered, taking offense at his chiding look. "I'm as clueless as you are here. He totally took advantage of my confusion!"

Sasuke shifted his dark eyes blearily from one to the other. "I was taking his advice," he informed her. "Incidentally, I wasn't planning on reporting a certain breach of patient-doctor relations with the use of mind-altering drugs that happened some years ago, but I might be forced to, after all, given its repeat?"

Sakura stared at him in horror and was effectively hushed.

"What I don't understand," Naruto grounded, his tone dipping, "Is how you think you're marrying Hinata-chan and on the side going around sucking on Sakura-chan's face."

"I was getting ready for bed."

"That doesn't explain why you're sucking on Sakura-chan's face."

"I resent that description!" asserted said owner of face.

Naruto shrugged to signal his lack of understanding, as well as in half-apology to Sakura.

"I was summoned by the village elders and told the Hyuuga are willing to overlook my last two failures, if I redeem myself tonight," Sasuke said. "I told them I was otherwise occupied."

"He has a cold," Sakura explained, before Naruto could form any assumptions as to what "occupied" meant.

"Yeah, he was sneezing four, five times on one go," Naruto agreed, wide-eyed in spite of himself. "It was the freakiest thing—"

"I left after that," Sasuke continued.

"So they decided to marry her to someone else?"

"To whom?" Sakura asked, brows furrowed. "Neji?"

"Neji?" Naruto snorted. "Why Neji? I mean, they're cousins. Even he wouldn't—"

"You think so?" The mednin then turned to their taciturn companion. "Sasuke, what was the mission you failed today?"

"A duel that didn't happen because the target wasn't where Intelligence thought," the avenger said. "A Cloud nin."

"Let me guess, something to do with that incident when Hinata-chan was a small child. The Cloud ambassador tried to kidnap her and was then killed by the Hyuuga head?"

"Supposedly his heir."

"You didn't find him?"

"He left Meadow country unexpectedly, according to his companions. Some rigmarole about a dead sister."

Sakura nodded, as if this did not surprise her. "And the children stayed?"

Sasuke raised an eyebrow at her.

"Did the genin team leave with him?"

"They stayed to complete their mission. The chuunin assumed the role of team leader."

"What are you two talking about?" Naruto finally demanded.

"This is insane," Sakura told him, disconcerted. "If it's true, then it's a very well-kept secret. It explains a lot about him, though."

"Who?"

"Shinoda Iga."

"The Cloud sensei with Prince? What about Shinoda Iga? I still don't get it."

"Neither do I," the girl said absently, now lost in thought.

"I'm the team's resident moron, remember?" the blond insisted, uncharacteristically cold. "You have to explain things better than that."

"Sasuke just came back from his mission for the Hyuuga."

"Which he failed, he said."

"Royally."

"Do you mind?" their subject growled.

"So he was supposed to duel with the Cloud ambassador's son. You know the story right?"

Naruto nodded tightly.

"The son of Sanada Kazuya was in Meadow Country supervising his genin charges, as they bodyguard the Prince of Rock. He is a guest there." She glanced at Sasuke to confirm this, but he didn't as much as blink. "And he unexpectedly left them. You can imagine the gravity of the situation, if he was allowed to do such a thing. They didn't try to hide the fact he was gone, correct?"

"I was invited to dinner," Sasuke said.

"Fuwa Amarillo and his retinue answered your questions and were hospitable to you, wasn't he?"

"I was recognized from the stories of one Uzumaki Naruto." Sasuke gave an ironic bow to said man's direction. "The Prince sends his compliments."

"Prince, what?" Naruto repeated. "The prince is Prince?"

"Yes," said Sakura. "Hinata's suitor."

"So Iga is the son of the guy killed by Hinata's dad?"

"It appears so."

"You're saying we had Hinata's assassin all that time?" The lanky boy was incredulous, disbelieving. "He had all the chances in the world to hurt her."

"I don't think he wants her dead, Naruto. If he is a Sanada…" Sakura paused, pondering over a number of what-ifs in her head. "This is huge. Shinoda Iga must have done everything he could to dissociate himself from the Sanada name. To have established himself as a mednin of his caliber without using that name…"

"Who are these Sanada?"

"A family of mednins. They're obscure, so they're not universally recognizable in the shinobi world, but no mednin doesn't know of them—or of developments they have willingly shared to the rest of the medical community."

"So they're nice people?"

"It's more complicated than just saying they're nice people. Same applies to Shinoda Iga."

"You've met him," Sasuke said.

"Yes," she answered, looking at him directly. "While I was looking for your cure, princess."

"What business does a Cloud nin have with my so-called cure?"

"Orochimaru's implanted enough of his curse seals for many a mednin to have encountered—and become intrigued by—them. The fact that you've survived and outlived its creators makes you an ultra-rare specimen. It's one of the reasons why we prefer not to advertise your still bearing it."

"I don't get it," Naruto said. "So Shinoda Iga was also looking into the curse seal? What's that got to do with Hinata-chan?"

"I'm not sure. Only that the Sanada family has a hold on the Hyuuga, and I think I understand now. I think Shishou thinks I understand it best, which is why I'm being summoned."

Sakura stood up and headed for her bathroom.

"We'll talk later, Sasuke-kun."

Naruto stared after her, as if not seeing her through his confusion. Sasuke interrupted his thoughts after a long silence.

"You say Hinata's engaged," he said almost wryly. "So she was able to reject me, and not this new fiancé?"

Naruto spun to gape at his old friend. "Wait, _she_ rejected you?"

"Me?" Sasuke returned. "What about you? What are you doing here?"

###

Perhaps, he ought to have been more curious, Neji thought, not for the first time that night. The Hyuuga compound had been buzzing with rumors of guests for tonight's dinner. In a momentary lapse, he indulged in the peevishness that flashed in his head and decided that he didn't care to meet yet another potential suitor of his cousin. The coming of another foreign prince or a famous shinobi from an allied village was not unlikely, regardless of whether the elders had already gotten wind of Hinata-sama's decision to reject Sasuke beforehand. Still, Neji felt he would have appreciated the warning and was not pleased about their continued withholding of information.

With Sasuke failing to duel with the head of the Sanada family, Neji didn't think it appropriate to entertain another potential suitor. It was high time the Hokage exerted more influence on the matter, before things come to a head with the Cloud. He couldn't imagine his pride-crippled family settling all their hope on the Uchiha, but neither could he appreciate the alternative others have hinted.

The assignment center was buzzing with indignation; a recent bout with an unwelcomed guest has soured the night staff's disposition towards visitors. Neji didn't have any problem with pissing them off further and had barged in to the Hokage's office despite their protests.

"Pardon the intrusion," he said peremptorily. "I was calling to request the opinion of Tsunade-hime on a family matter, one private citizen to another. She wasn't home."

"You look well, Neji-kun," Kakashi said as he set down his cup of tea. "I heard your sensei's gone to pieces since I left."

The Hyuuga was thankfully spared the trouble of replying, for Tsunade chose to turn her seat then and speak her displeasure.

"Well?" she barked. "Are you going to demand I make pigs fly?"

Neji took this with equanimity. "If that involves turning the lot of my kinsmen into swine, I can't say I find that request unreasonable."

"Those old farts will be the death of me," the Hokage told him.

"Hinata-sama refused Uchiha Sasuke."

"Is that what it is?" Tsunade took a swig from her cup of tea in a way that made Neji suspect it wasn't actually tea. "The official reports I've just gotten state Sasuke had refused to take the challenge to redeem his earlier failure. Are your old farts attempting to pin their matchmaking failure on Sasuke, too? I don't need this right now."

"Hinata-sama and the Uchiha do have minds of their own," Neji suggested.

"Don't take that tone with me, young man. Naruto is a boor, but I expect better from you."

"I think I can speak for all three of us in saying we were not expecting to become embroiled in political games."

"Good. You understand why I'm hellishly pissed right now."

"Fair enough," Neji relented. "Can we at least stop the farce of seeking the world for a suitable suitor? I believe there is another tonight."

"I'm afraid you can't drive away this one, boy."

There was a pause, as Neji pieced together everything and calmed his initial reaction all with an unchanging, slight frown. "Since when did we know about this?"

"Which part?" Kakashi murmured helpfully.

"By international treaty," Tsunade continued without letting the others pursue a discussion. "We are forced to recognize his claim over your cousin. He is free to take her this very evening, if he so wished."

Neji maintained his poise and bearing as he made his respectful way out.

"Naruto was here, by the way," Kakashi added. "He might use some of your level calm, Neji-kun."

Neji's maintained poise and bearing faltered just a tad.

"Since you are here," Tsunade said, shaking her head. "Please make sure that idiot doesn't cause an international problem on top of everything."

"With all due respect—"

"Shikamaru is already deciphering the contract, correct? Your family had already asked someone to look into the Anahata gate and its role in such binding curses. Others who might have more insight on the intentions of this man and those who control him have volunteered to expand their investigation.

"In the meantime, I suggest you get yourself home to your cousin with her own little mind. I'm sorry, but you'll need to babysit the children a while longer."

When Neji reached home, dinner was in full swing, though not as vivaciously as the idiom suggested. The Hyuuga silently partook the cooking staff's finest viands, and in their midst was the equally silent group of important-looking foreign nin, obviously a formal delegation. The heiress and her guest of honor were not in their appointed places.

All moved to look at him, even the Spartan Cloud with expressions befitting their name. Not one betrayed emotion on their calm faces. None of them had any inkling of how awkward their little party would be to some random idiot who accidentally walked in. As he was neither a random idiot nor accidentally there, Neji was quick to understand why he felt immense discomfort.

The Cloud retinue had absolutely no fear of any misstep from the Hyuuga or Konoha, no repeat of what happened nearly two decades ago: they will be safe till they step out of the village borders. Thus, they bore no aggression or defensiveness; they looked simply to see who it was that came so late to dinner.

The Hyuuga… Ah, the Hyuuga. Neji wasn't quite able to pin the rush of emotions he felt towards his family. He understood now their unflappable calm, and why they had never seemed to find it a priority to take care of their future leader's hidden conundrum, a problem caused by their previous leaders. They held little interest, much less rancor, toward the former enemies that sat in their midst.

They looked at him with confident expectation.

"Where is Hinata-sama?" he managed.

"In her apartments, Neji-sama," murmured the doorkeeper, as everybody else returned to their meal. It wasn't, he supposed, disappointment exactly. The certain sense of waiting cooled, however.

(This is why the Hyuuga is diminished, Neji thought with contempt. Our blood has cooled to the point of reptilian, sluggish, dispassionate, and treacherous.)

To her rooms he went. Considering he wasn't at all decided on a course of action, he appraised how coolly he seemed to be marching to the crux of a problem he had stepped into months ago, against his better judgment. Now of all nights, he realized that he was very foolish to think that. There was no judgment involved on his part—he was going to be sucked into the concealed sandpit whether he liked it or not, only to end up where they had plotted him to be in the first place.

It was not just another mission, just another battle. He was walking straight into the well-designed machinations of his beloved family. When he opened the misleadingly simple sliding door to his cousin's apartments, it would be like opening a door to his own birdcage and slamming it shut after him.

(No. Neji gripped the despair, the helpless fatalism that steeped his and his ancestors' secret selves all their lives, and submerged it back where it hid. He had not decided yet. He had yet to fall.)

He stopped before that fatal step and listened to the familiar voices conversing inside the room.

"I will tell you the truth," came the voice of the spacey Cloud sensei they had first met a month ago. "My father, by his own will, tried to take you from your home, because we were desperate to find a cure. They had known even at that point that the Raikage's disease is in essence a corruption of the chakra pathways, and the skills of a clan such as yours would be instrumental in understanding it.

"I have inherited this desperate need to find a cure. It falls on me now to continue my kinsmen's mission, for all the good or ill it has or will cause."

The young man paused, but continued when the young woman said nothing.

"I need you to help me raise the Raikage," came the pronouncement of the Sanada head. "If only long enough to prevent the chaos of a forced Ascendency race, we need him conscious, alert, and of clear, unquestionable mentation.

"I have laid out all my cards, and I have nothing else to say, but what I came for. I, Sanada Sayuri, ask for your hand in marriage. Please grant me this honor, Hyuuga Hinata-sama."

The door slid open before the Hyuuga heiress could open her mouth. Once again, Hyuuga Neji's sometimes begrudging sense of responsibility reared its ugly head and caused him to tread in paths even fools left alone.

But see, that's the thing: Neji was no fool.

"Forgive the intrusion," he said, again peremptorily. "I am compelled to speak in defense of the Hyuuga clan's honor. There are certain rituals involved in the matters of courtship and marriage that are being bypassed. It is incumbent upon me to advocate for Hinata-sama's rights as an equal-standing party of this agreement."

"Are you saying you will champion her?" Sayuri asked. He seemed genuinely startled at this, and Neji knew this man, even then, had watched and studied carefully. If he chose to make him his opponent, Sanada Sayuri had the small advantage of knowing Neji's ambivalent feelings towards his family.

(Now the question becomes this: is Sanada Sayuri's assessment of Hyuuga Neji wrong?)

Before Neji could answer, the carefully made up mannequin that was his cousin seemed to come back to life. Her pale face colored to match the burgundy of her dress, but if it was from slight embarrassment, her white Hyuuga eyes betrayed no quarter as she stepped forward, tall.

"Can I champion myself?"

051511

AN: Finally. After only 20 revisions... Thanks to mikochan noda once again for the beta-reading.

Again, thank you for reading and for the comments.


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